The Gentelman Prefers
by Billybob - csagun36
Summary: This is a Neville/OC story with a twist, it also has a strong Ron/Hermione sub plot
1. Chapter 1

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers Blondes**

Chapter 1; entitled: **prologue;**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Warning # 2**; I hate stereotypes, so don't expect my version of the Harry Potter story to have prefect little Heroes. Also the bulk of this story takes place seven years after book seven, the characters are therefore **ADULTS. **In 2004, Neville Longbottom, Harry and Ron would be twenty-four with Hermione barely twenty-five.

**Warning # 3**; there will be loads of sub-plots and other odd-pairings. …I love JKR to death, but as a romance author …lets just say …I feel she fumbled the Quaffle. I feel that Rowling's notion that teenagers of seventeen and eighteen have no interest in having sex …is just laughable

So beside the usual HP couple's… this tale will contain an unusual Neville romantic ship; _**among others**_. So if I wander off and do another couple's romance, sit back and enjoy the ride! All other relationships as outlined in the Epilog in book seven or in JKR interviews are hereby _**Null and Void**_ …unless I say otherwise.

Will there be sexual innuendo? 'Yeah - Duh'

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Summary**: after fleeing from Hogwarts after the murder of Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy pays the ultimate price for his failure. Not realizing that as the old Headmaster once said: for some people, there are a lot of things worse than death.

**Time-frame**: begins in the last chapter of HBP, its midnight, around **mid-June, 1997** …some two days before Dumbledore's funeral.

OoOoOoOo

**Roll film**

OoOoOoOo

**Chapter 1 - - an odd nightmare**

Harry awoke abruptly in a cold sweat as he usually did after a Voldemort inspired nightmare. He had not experienced one of these visions in quite some time for the dark lord had been blocking access to his mind to keep his plans from the boy. But when the dark lord became excited or extremely angry his mental shields had a tendency to slip …because of Voldemort's intense anger that night over young Malfoy's failure to carry out his order to kill the headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry found himself unwillingly with a front row seat for the torturous punishment of a hated rival.

For what felt like forever Harry was compelled to watch as Draco suffered one powerful Cruciatus Curse after another, twisting and turning in agony as his body endured indescribable pain. Having been there himself Harry felt an unusual feeling of sympathy for the boy responsible for letting the death eaters run amuck within the walls of his beloved school. Because after long experience watching through these visions of the dark Lord punish his followers, Harry as well as some of the more seasoned DE could see the signs of where Draco's punishment was leading to.

The painfully Crucio spells cast upon Draco had continued for far longer than the usual amount of time that Voldemort used to 're-educate' one of his foot soldiers concerning the penalties involved for not carrying out his instructions to the letter. Recognizing this Wormtail, one of the dark lord's principle flunkies and personal body servant turned to fetch a Portkey in anticipation of his master's requirements.

"Draco my boy, my disappointment in you for your failure is without end," the dark Lord declared with a snake like hiss to his voice as he lifted the Cruciatus curse so that his victim could hear him. "You were given a series of simple tasks. Arrange for my troops to enter the castle circumventing the defensive wards, ambush the Headmaster, kill him and escape. I was frankly surprised that for the most part you actually succeeded in this assignment, as your father often failed to carry out my most simple orders time and time again …always finding someone else to blame for his repeated failure.

"For a brief instant I began to hope that you were not your father's son and would succeed. But then it happened, with the most important task of all, Dumbledore being murdered by the wand of one of his own precious students, by the hand of a Slytherin, there you failed me as your father had done during the Department of Mysteries assault.

"Had you died in this attempt, I would have had my revenge on Lucius for his numerous failures over the years, by killing …or better yet having Dumbledore kill you in self-defense …the one and only remaining male heir of the Malfoy bloodline capable or reproducing. The final male-heir of an ancient bloodline; that my dark magic **alone**, provided to your often bungling father …an otherwise totally impotent, arrogant piece of blonde scum!

"As a side benefit of your incompetent death at the Headmasters hands, Slytherin house would have been tainted with the guilt of the assassination. Isolating that House even further from the other school Houses at Hogwarts. Killing forever Dumbledore dream of unification of all four Hogwarts Houses …thus prompting some of the fence sitters from their unspoken ploy of staying-out-of this magical civil war for blood purity. Too many Slytherin pure-blood families have not rallied to my cause as quickly as I would wish it, and therefore have to be prodded to do what is best for the sake of their bloodlines.

"Milord I beg you …forgive me" Draco pleaded.

"Those two goals were behind my sending you to kill the headmaster Draco. You're not my only source of information of the goings on at Hogwarts. Another of your failures was in not informing me of the inner house romantic flirting going on in ever increasing numbers - secretly - between Slytherin students and members of both genders within the other school Houses.

Milord I did not think it worthy of …

"…By the way Severus, I have not forgotten your own failure to provide me with so much as a single name of one of these blood traitors within Slytherin." the Dark lord snapped out turning his attention off of the recovering panting deeply Draco and onto the nearby former potion-master

"Master, I was close to catching one of the leaders of this cross-house foolishness in the act …the very night Draco launched his assault, which he did without my foreknowledge..." ex-professor Snape managed to get out before feeling his master's wrath by suffering the Cruciatus Curse himself.

"You were specifically told to stay out of the attack Severus; I wanted no blood on your hands if by some quirk of fate this girlish coward of a Malfoy finally found enough of his manhood to carry out a man's job. I had arranged for the Board of Governors to name you the next Headmaster instead of McGonagall. Then my conquest of Hogwarts would have been accomplished with a single spell. But that was all thrown down when you …and not Draco killed Dumbledore.

"With the ancient power of Hogwarts at my command, I would have been unstoppable. But that's for later Severus, your punishment will come in due time, first however Draco must pay for his lost opportunity. For when the moment of truth came the effeminate berk couldn't do it. I've been told that Draco shook and trembled like a frightened woman …unable to find the courage to kill an unarmed old man with no means of escape.

"Clearly the powerful Dark-magic spell that I cast upon you sixteen years ago …transforming you within your mother's womb …only gave you the outward appearance of a man. I was as weak as a child for two days after that transformation and all theses years later …I discover it was a wasted effort. You are not a real man Draco and apparently in spite of all my magic …you never will be …so I'll waste no more time and effort on you...

'**AVADA KEDAVRA'**,

The dark Lord screamed loudly as a beam of green light shot out of the end of his wand, hitting the Malfoy boy square in the chest, causing the aura surrounding his body to briefly flair with an unusual golden sheen, before Draco Malfoy dropped to the floor, another in a long line of victims of Voldemort's so-called un-survivable killing curses.

Wormtail, who stood at the sidelines, began to move forward even before the killing curse actually hit the teenager. His master didn't like a dead body lingering on the floor long enough for his followers to feel even the slightest trace of sympathy for the victim. Quickly killed even quicker disposed of was the dark Lords method of reinforcing the lesson of the price of failure to his troops.

Wormtail knew better, from suffering the Cruciatus himself, for moving too slowly in the past, to delay the disposal of the bodies of his master's wrath. In fact the rat faced man even kept an already primed Portkey …in his pocket for just such occasions. He rushed as fast as he could move, over to the apparently lifeless corpse. Grabbed the boys' outstretched limp hand and instantly disappeared; only to reappear on a lonely stretch of road in rural Wales were he preferred to dump the dead.

Knowing his master would be cursing Severus Snape next and not wanting to missed the show, Wormtail skipped his usually policy of rifling through the dead persons pockets for lose change …preferring instead, to return instantly to the dark Lord's headquarters, pausing only long enough to roughly kick the body of the once arrogant Draco Malfoy into the ditch at the side of the road.

However, had Wormtail been in only a sight-bit less of a hurry to return to his master, he would have been around to hear the soft moan of pain coming from what was supposed to have been a lifeless corpse …a very un-usual moan …a very feminine sounding moan.

**OoOoOoOo **

Meanwhile far-away in the sixth year Gryffindor boy's dorm, Harry Potter awoke abruptly opening his eyes to see his closet friend Ron looking down at him from his bedside with deep concern clear as day on his face. Asking in a whisper, if his best-mate was; 'all-right there Harry?"

"Yeah Ron, I think so? - I had another nightmare," Harry said as he calmed down.

"You-know-who again?" Ron asked in a worried tone.

"Yeah, I just saw …I think; Malfoy is dead"

"You-know-who killed the ferret?" Ron asked pleased at what he considered to be 'good' news.

"Maybe? - But I'm not sure. There was something a bit-off about it, it wasn't quite like the other times I've seen Voldemort kill," Harry said remembering the golden aura.

"You think it might be a false memory to throw us off, like that time at the Department of Mysteries. This whole war is like a game of wizard chess to that tosser, trying to confuse his real game strategy by making false moves." Ron said showing more wisdom than he was usually noted for.

"Yes-and-No …Ron. I think it was real, it just felt different that's all, not at all like the usual feeling I get when he kills, like something didn't work just right - oh hell I don't know, I must be going mental. Everyone knows you can't survive the killing curse..." Harry declared rambling on - only to have his best mate gently touch his arm as he reminded his all but blood brother.

"That's not exactly true mate, **you** survived it!"

"Yeah I did - didn't I?" Harry replied going quiet.

OoOoOoOo

"Oh shite" came a curse from a near-by curtained bed. A moment later the drapes flew open as a sweating Neville Longbottom jerked awake by his own nightmare made his appearance.

"Alright there; Nev?" Ron asked puzzled by his dorm-mates odd behavior.

"Yeah …I guess so." Longbottom replied shaking his head …trying to clear-it, "But I just had the strangest dream. I was snogging-senseless this well-built blonde …Ya-see, then she pushed away from me to unhook her bra, peeled it off and then tosses it aside."

"And this made you scream in terror?" Ron asked highly amused. "What was wrong …didn't Luna have nice teats."

"Oh this wasn't Luna," Neville said casually, blushing hard.

"Not Luna?" Harry said oddly cheering-up at Neville's discomfort. "You two have a falling-out?"

"That's old news Harry", Neville admitted sadly. "She broke up with me more than a week ago; she said it wasn't working-out between us. She said she had a vision one night and in-it all the castle _**Nargles**_ …under the orders of the ancient Celtic gods of the U.K. blocked all the romance arrows from forming into the fairies love-hex which is the real reason according to her - - that we mortals fall in love. Luna claims that I'm destined for someone else, who will bare me many offspring's… children that will save two ancient bloodlines from extinction.

"No offense mate, but Luna is a-bit of a nutter… you know?" Ron said semi-apologetically.

"Oh that's rich coming from you, who's secretly in love with a bookworm that wore makeup **once **in the entire six years we've known her. "Neville spat… too upset by his nightmare to hold his tongue as he normally would. "And Granger acted sexy, just for that one night; to Chat-up that Bulgarian Quidditch player,

"Oi, hold-on he's just a pen-pal." Ron stuttered suddenly worried. Hearing this Neville grabbed a galleon from off his night-table and tossed it across the room. With Ron instinctively as any great keeper would; caught mid-air.

"There Ron, go buy yourself a clue, she is playing you; mate. She writes that 'friend' every bloody-day and all she does with you is argue; 24/7. You're no more likely to get in her knickers than her other 'little-brother' Harry.

"Heaven forbid, that would be like… incest," Harry joked in over-exaggerated disgust.

"She thinks of us as brothers?" Ron asked rapidly becoming depressed, "She told you that."

"She hasn't said squat to me," Neville quickly retorted. "But that's how she behaves, look mate …just ask her… Okay? Find out where you stand with her one way or the other. And if she does look at you as a sibling; then you can drop the one-sided torch you've been carrying for her since fifth year and go-out and find a bird that snogs more and yells at-you …less. You got over Lavender quick enough… didn't you?

"Speaking from experience; eh Nev," Harry said coming to his gob-smacked; stunned speechless, best-mates defense, while at the same time secretly agreeing with Neville's view of Ron's chances with Hermione.

"Yeah, so what? Neville retorted hotly. Lots of girls here regard of me as their pretend big-brother, and when they tell me… I don't waste any more time with them. How much time have you spent hanging-about Cho Chang since she dumped you, Harry?

"Point taken and yeah, it hurt like hell for a-while. But you're right once a bird calls you the 'B' word, it's time to move on and never look back. Unless a sister is what ya want.

"Not matter how a rejection happens; break-ups with a girl you fancy always hurt," Neville replied sadly. "But as a sort-of consolation-prize …just so I wouldn't feel **too bad** about being dumped …as ordered by the Gods. Luna admitted that the sex had been really great …"

"Sex …you've had sex?" Ron stuttered, utterly surprised.

"Well yeah …haven't you," Neville asked Ron. "I thought you and Lavender had …"

"Well we …sort-of did; some stuff …but we hadn't done anything like …'**that**'. Not before we broke-up anyway …Lavender wanted to; but it didn't sit right with me," Ron rambled on a bit his ears turning bright red.

"How about you Harry, didn't you do _**the deed**_ with Chang?"

"Oh …well …the truth is … we didn't get beyond a single awkward snog." Harry admitted reluctantly determined to keep his new relationship with Ginny a total secret. "How many times did you and Luna …do it?"

"Oh about a dozen sessions all-together …and six goes at bringing her to orgasm on average, each time Luna got in the mood for a … coupling," Neville said casually as if that amount of lovemaking was commonplace. "She can be a real randy-mink when the mood strikes her. But it was soon apparent after a few similar encounters in broom-cupboards …that she wanted more than I could give her."

"Are you saying that you couldn't bring Luna off …once in six tries?" Harry asked amazed.

"Well to tell the truth …" Neville said deeply embarrassed.

"…Yeah-yeah …it's always good to tell the truth". Ron interrupted with a snort.

"Actually on average I'd bring her-off two times in the cunny and …the other three times was by mouth," Neville said turning red in embarrassment at his failure.

You shagged Luna six times and _**only**_ made her see the-stars five times. Ron said with mocking disappointment.

"Oh I feel bad about letting her down … I sort-of lose count of bring her off half way through most of the times we shagged …I think we had sex six times that first time …or maybe it was; seven".

"Neville …you stud!" Harry said with a huge smile beaming at his friends …unexpected bedroom skills.

"Luna didn't think so." Neville said shaking his head sadly. "I didn't have the stamina she's looking for."

"She enjoys the big **'O'** Five times per-bunk-up and that's still not enough for her?"

"Yeah, Luna said when she broke up with me; that a '**real man'** should be able to last longer than just four hours. She said the _**Quibbler**_ had an article wherein elderly Muggle men on some drug or other; have stiffies that last at least that long.

"Yeah …oh right-then," Ron stammered not really sure as to what to say. "So if it wasn't randy-Luna that made you scream …who did, and why?," Ron asked in a rapidly growing worried tone as he wondered if he could match that sexual-feat with Hermione, provided she fancied him at all; that-way.

"Don't know …meaning I saw her …but didn't; at the same time. I looked into those grey eyes that seemed to bore into my very soul. I know for certain she had extra-white; platinum Blonde hair that hung down her back to her bum like a cape. But …every time I kissed her …this white-blonde succubus's face would… kind-of get-blurred …you know …go-out of focus".

"But she had a big rack, right?" Seamus asked eagerly as he joined the conversation; sitting up in his own bed while trying to redirect the conversation back to what he thought of as the really important stuff.

"No …not that can I recall," Neville admitted reluctantly. "She was just a wet-dream girl …you know? So she wasn't real …okay? But what I did see of her breasts they weren't the humongous teats from the Japanese Hentai magazines that our-dear Seamus fancies and keep's hidden in his school-trunk."

"Hey leave my reading material out of this," Seamus snorted not at all embarrassed at being caught-out.

"My dream Blonde," Neville continued unabated, "which I didn't see all that clearly, appeared to have a petite balanced figure …her chest in prefect proportion to hips. She was shorter than me… in height, I know that much and from what I could make-out, I'd say her bosom was a cup size smaller than Luna's; who has a firm and perky solid** 'D'**-cup.

"So, this platinum-blond bird has smaller bobbies than Luna," Seamus said asking for clarification.

"With unusually elongated nips; yeah," Neville replied softly.

"A mysterious white Blonde …eh" Ron said rubbing his chin and thinking hard. "Traditional blondes… Hogwarts has by the cart load, dirty blondes, strawberry blondes we have some of those as well, but a Platinum blonde around here are as rare as a trustworthy Slytherin".

"I have to agree with Ron," Harry interjected thoughtfully. "Your dream girl isn't here, you'll have to check-out the Village girls, or the shop-clerks in Diagon Alley when we get home for holiday."

"Yeah …you're right of course." Neville said. "I keep telling myself that she isn't real, but I've got this fantasy girl stuck in my head …you know?"

"Well you prefer blondes, so what? Every bloke has a type of girl they fancy," Ron said. "I … well… apparently it's no secret that I prefer brown …bushy-haired bookworms, and Harry …what is your type Harry …Eurasians with jet-black hair?"

"Nope …Cho cried too much," Harry said holding back the truth. "I haven't settled for a particular type yet, keeping my options open …you know."

"But let's not get off topic," Ron said refocusing on Neville. "You woke up like from a nightmare and I like to know why. A topless platinum-blonde's, throwing aside her bra, shouldn't cause you to swear and sweat. Unless you're afraid you'll never get back to this particular dream-girl again.

"No such luck," Neville said sadly. "I've had this same dream countless times now, always the same faceless white blonde. Sometimes the setting changes, but always with the same urgency."

"Urgency?"

"This is going to sound odd as hell, but my dream-blonde seems desperate to make love to me, here in the dorm-room, in hallway broom-cupboards, my bedroom at home, open fields, Quidditch-pitch stands, on-top of tables, shower-stalls, or bent-over kitchen sinks …anywhere really."

"What's odd about that?" Ron asked. "Most blokes dream of sexually aggressive birds."

"Oh; Really?" Neville countered. "When you're dreaming of your seventeen year old bookworm trying to undo your trousers ...does her randy banter include rants on how destiny is very-upset with her for being so far behind in getting into the pudding club. Does your know-it-all complain in-between snogs that you need to put a bum in her oven …as in yesterday? Do half of your non-sexual hallucinations of Granger …at a Quidditch match watching you play …or having ice cream in Diagon Alley involves her wearing **maternity** clothing?"

"That's how my dreams of my mysterious platinum Blonde alternate, randy as hell for anywhere sex in one vision and with a huge baby-bulge in another. And yet; being pregnant doesn't lessen her appetite to shag, for in my dreams she is always downright insatiable for nonstop sex… even nine months gone with child".

"You sometimes have randy-dreams of making love to a pregnant girl?" Ron asked amazed, "Your right mate …that is ruddy odd."

"And it's always with the same randy blonde?" Seamus asked in wonder.

"Always, I use to pretend that I was dreaming of Luna," Neville explained. "But the body types are just too different. Luna has a classic hour-glass figure and loves the sun. My white-blonde on the other hand; is a frail little-thing and has extra-pale delicate-skin … the kind that burns in the sun so easily."

"This has got to mean something," Harry said suddenly very serious. "Remember …I had that prophecy at the Ministry. It broke fifth-year, but Voldemort certainly put a lot-of stock in it. So I have recently become a great believer in fate and destiny".

"You're preaching to the choir, Harry." Neville said. "I've already had several chats with the now …late Headmaster. Before his …murder. He told me that my white-blonde _**might-be**_ a real person and Dumbledore thought-it _**might-be**_ my destiny to have children with her …whoever she is? He also said that you and I were both touched by destiny, yours had been spelled-out clearly …whereas mine remains vaguer."

"Well if you picture her in the pudding club, I can understand Dumbledore's reasoning there." Harry said logically.

"Sweet Merlin …Harry, I'm not even eighteen yet," Neville asked frustrated. "Why have I been chosen to make all these children …and why do these dreams of mine seem to stress that I have already _**fallen behind**_ some predetermined baby-making timeline. It's as if …I should have already met this blonde, that we should have been snogging each other senseless for a couple of years already and have now progressed to the shagging like rabbits stage.

Did you tell Luna about this dream girl? Harry asked.

"Oh …sure, that'll be a greatest chat-up line ever," Seamus said with a snort. "I fancy you loads but your boobies are too big to be the Mum of my nippers.

"Yeah, that's basically why I didn't tell Luna, you got that in one go," Neville sneered at Finnegan.

"Neville old-boy get-a-ruddy grip, you're freaking-out over being late …with a white-blonde you haven't even met yet?" Seamus asked now genuinely confused.

"Did you ever have a dream where you were late for something important and you ran and ran to catch-up?" Neville asked the room at large.

"Yeah, I had one about the world-cup; I dreamt that I overslept and I ran full-out to reach the port-key before it activated," Harry admitted. "I'd always wake-up abruptly in a cold sweat afterwards.

"Oh yeah I've had that kind of dream myself," Seamus admitted. "Is that what you had Nev, a running dream? Like Alice's wonderland Rabbit always late for something?"

"That's most of it I guess, I'm in a hurry to shag this blonde, she's beautiful and she wants me bad… which has never happened for me in real life… so some of this is way-cool. But there is more to it than your normal wet-dream. My dream-girl is in real-danger, there are Death Eaters trying hard to kill her, which is odd as she wears the dark-mark herself?

"Hold-On-right there, she's a Death-Eater?" Ron said as his smile abruptly vanished.

"Yeah, can you image me bunking-up with a platinum-blonde …Bellatrix wantabe?"

"**No**, I can't," Harry said with absolute certainty

"Me either", Ron said thoughtfully. "But you still have an-out don't you? Dumbledore told you it _**might be**_ your destiny, but he wasn't certain …right?

"Yeah …I guess so, only tonight …my dream took on a …major increase in resolve, like a major piece of the puzzle fell into place …in just the last few hours," Neville said shaking his head in dread. "I sense somehow that the determination to bring this white-blonde and me together… just overcame an important obstacle. The pressure is on… the urgency intensified.

"Are you going to need help finding this bird?" Ron asked. "With Dumbledore dead, there are rumors that the Board is going to close down Hogwarts for good. Before we attend Bill's wedding Harry and I _**might**_ have some free-time to help you look.

"Yeah, time-permitting we could spare a few hours to help you," Harry chimed-in. "I'm on a quest of my own this holiday, some things I have to find… but otherwise anything for a dorm-mate.

"Thanks Harry, but I don't think that I have to search for my dream-girl, especially after tonight's installment, I can't help but agree with the late Headmaster," Neville said with a sad smile. "Dumbledore was convinced that as my dreams **always** have my white-blonde hunting me down …aggressively coming-on to me. He felt that _**if - or - when**_ destiny is good and ready; fate will throw us together hard.

"So she'll come to you?"

"If my dreams are actually premonitions; then yes." Neville said in a resigned tone. "Apparently, destiny has her own time-line that we mere mortals are clueless about."

"Tell me about it." Harry said with clear bitterness.

OoOoOoOo

**End transmission, for Now**


	2. Chapter 2

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers Blondes**

Chapter 2; entitled: **poor-poor Neville**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

didn't intend to update so soon, but with only one reader - why not

**OoOoOoOo**

**Chapter # 2 **

**Entitled; Just short of Seven years later**

**Late May 2004**

**Wizengamot courtroom number ten**

**Ten in the morning**

**OoOoOoOo **

"Your Honors, I really must object, the entire concept of indentured servitude is barbaric."

"Ms. Granger, I realize you were born and raised among Muggle's and this upbringing has tainted your worldview to be prejudiced against our Wizarding world's laws and traditions," The high judge declared sternly. "However, as a practicing barrister within our legal system you are compelled to follow to our laws. Your client has pleaded no-contest to malicious destruction of private property and accidental violation of the International Secrecy Act. He has been unusually fortunate in this case in that neither Dennis Creevey nor Mrs. Hannah Abbott-Longbottom wish the **cause** behind Mr. Longbottom's attack upon them at that Muggle-owned hotel to become public knowledge."

"She was cheating on Mr. Longbottom, just twenty-four hours before their third wedding anniversary."

"Mrs. Longbottom has already conceded in her disposition that her ill-advised rendezvous; with her thought-to-be secret and much-younger lover at a hotel in greater London was more than ample justification for your client's anger. This is the reason behind their decision to not press charges for the assault. Once that charge was dropped; there only remained the violation of the _**International Secrecy Act**_ and the damages done to the hotel room, plus the fine and court costs associated with these proceedings… which I might add includes… **your-fee**."

"But sixty thousand galleons is grossly-excessive," Hermione argued.

"A large fine as an alternative to ten years of prison time served in Azkaban has a long-standing tradition in Wizarding law.

"It means that the rich can buy their way out of the crimes they commit." Hermione protested strongly.

"This alternative reduces over-crowing and the large fines act as a Deterrent. But we're not here to argue the merits of existing law; Ms. Granger. You were giving forty-eight hours to raise the money and by your own admission you have failed to raise the required sum. Normally this would mean prison for your client; however a private third-party has offered to pay the entire amount in exchange for a five year indenture…"

"That's slavery… that's uncivilized and vulgar."

"An indenture with a limited time-frame is not slavery Ms. Granger, and if I hear one more disrespectful-rant out of you, you'll be the one… spending the weekend at Azkaban, for contempt of court," the high-Judge hissed. "Furthermore; it needs to be pointed out that five years is far less than the more traditional eight years associated with the pay-off for such a large amount. Your client is getting a very generous deal, and I advise him to take it.

"Well Neville it's really up to you," Hermione said softly feeling defeated - as she sat back down.

"Five years is loads-better than ten in Azkaban, Hermione. So I take the indenture gratefully."

"Your honor, my client accepts the indenture."

"Very well, the third party's legal representative may now approach the bench."

OoOoOoOo

An elderly wizard very expensively dressed, got-up from his seat in the very back of the courtroom; with the high-judge eyebrows shooting-up in surprise. "Dennis Dickerson, my old friend are you personally handling this?"

"I'm not yet… too old, to practice law; Charles," the old wizard said with a soft smile.

"As senior partner of Dickerson and Smith, surely you have some green behind the ears solicitor like Ms. Granger here… to handle such triviality… your firm's legal-fee alone would-be more than twice the amount, of Longbottom's entire-fine."

"I'm not doing this for gold; Charles, Muriel asked me to assign someone to look-after her nephew; as a favor - -"

"- - Lady Prewett is involved in this?"

"Indirectly, she is unusually-fond of this particular nephew, and tells me constantly that he is the only one of Molly's brood with a head on his shoulders."

"An up and coming star in the business world… eh?"

"I don't know about that; but he's certainly found his nitch in life. He manages **all** twenty-seven of her estates across Western Europe and several of the 'Chosen-One' as well. Muriel boasts he's the best Chief Steward she ever had."

"Good stewards are hard to find, or should I say; honest ones," The high judge declared bitterly bespeaking a bad personal experience with the dishonest sort.

"I've had the boy watched Charles, also had him audited yearly. His loyalty and honesty are unquestioned. His books balance and he's usually under-budget. He apprenticed for two years under the great Thaddeus Thorn, just before the old-genius retired. And Thaddeus thinks the world of his last and perhaps finest protégé."

"So is the High Warden of the Prewett estates putting up a promise-bond through-you for the Longbottom indenture?"

"No, he's here personally; with a letter of credit from Gringotts for the full amount.

"That's not necessary Dennis,"

"I know it's not, but this boy pays his debts on-time, the moment they are due."

"Impressive," the high-judge asked suspiciously, "and your other purpose here today?"

"I wanted to introduce him to you personally, especially after hearing about the trouble you had with that embezzler who was your Steward over your estate in Jersey.

"You'd do that for me? The high-judge asked both surprised and delighted.

"I can't promise he'll take you on as a client, but yes …anything for an old Hogwarts dorm-mate

OoOoOoOo

"Hermione had not heard the hushed conversation between the two elderly wizards being far too busy in bending Neville's ear with her heated diatribe against magical-indenture. Neville for his part took her verbal abuse as any penniless beggar could with all the offended grace that he could muster.

He despised being forced to listen to the former Prefect's long-winded rants on house-elf's rights back at Hogwarts, but unable to pay Hermione's fee as a barrister, he bit his tongue in frustration at being her reluctant audience of one - as she spat-forth pure Non-understandable legalize. Luckily her **boring to tears** lecture of obscure legal principles ended mid-sentence and her head shot-up sharply when she heard the bailiff declare loudly;

"The Wizengamot court call's Ronald Bilius Weasley".

"The doors in the back of the courtroom slowly opened, and walking briskly; Ron entered dressed in a conservatively-cut, carefully-tailored, black business robes. His hair was cropped no-nonsense military-style short, and his active lifestyle and primarily outdoors occupation of inspection tours kept the young wizard trim and fit. He spared not a single glance toward Neville or his gob-smacked barrister as he marched up to the judge's Bench; where he was met with a question.

"Are you Ronald, sixth son of Arthur and Molly; of Clan Weasley, currently employed as Chief Steward to the noble house of Prewett?"

"Yes Milord Justice,"

"And it is your intention to assume the defendant; Neville Longbottom's criminal-debt in exchange for five years of servitude?"

"Yes Milord Justice,"

"May I ask; in what fashion will Mr. Longbottom repay his debt to you?"

"As a skilled botanist and Herbologist; Milord," Ron replied calmly. "There are two; one-hundred twenty yard long empty-greenhouses next to the gatehouse; at the fringe of the main Prewett estate in Kent. It is my intention to use his skill in magical plants to fulfill; in-house, the special plant needs of Lady Prewett."

"You're referring to her trademark purple roses; I take it?"

"Yes Milord Justice."

"You do know, Mr. Weasley that 'these-days' the ancient title of Milord Justice has been supplanted with the Muggle honorific; 'your honor'."

"My aunt insisted that I refer to you as I have done, and her wish is my command; Milord Justice," Ron replied with a formal-bow of respect.

"You refuse to bite the hand that feeds you, that is a wise course of action young-man," the high judge said with an approving chuckle.

"Something like that, yes Milord."

"Pay the clerk Mr. Weasley and then visit Dennis and me in my chambers, I have a personal matter to discuss with you,"

"It would be my pleasure, Milord."

OoOoOoOo

Ten minutes later; the gold transfer complete, Ron, with indentured servant Neville firmly in tow, found himself ambushed on his way to the High-judge's chambers by the youngest barrister practicing law in the U.K. Hermione Jean Granger.

"So you were just going to fly through here like a whirlwind without a word?" Hermione snarled.

"Ms. Granger, are you still here?" Ron replied sourly without stopping. "Your fee has already been paid, along with the Longbottom debt. Surely there is a hot and juicy law-book awaiting your attention somewhere.

"Ron, we use to be friends… real close friends," she pleaded.

"We apparently; '_only had Harry in common_' Ms. Granger. Isn't that what you told the Wizarding press in Australia a fortnight after the battle of Hogwarts," Ron spat bitterly. "After reading your exclusive interview; I decided in my '_childishly immature fashion_' unquote; that I didn't require another '_**sibling figure'**_, telling me what to do. My sister by blood …Ginny already had sixteen years of seniority in that job up-to that point."

"_Kissing Ron during the Hogwarts battle was like kissing my brother_," Neville said speaking-up mimicking Hermione's tone of voice perfectly; as he too quoted the infamous post-war interview, as pay-back for her patronizing attitude during his trial. "Yeah, I remember that interview too."

"The press took that quote out of context; Ron, as I've tried to explain a thousand times in the letters you returned unopened".

"But you do regard him as a **brother **- right?" Neville asked pressing for the truth.

"We grew up together for Merlin's sake," Hermione protested weakly avoiding the question.

"What do you want from me; Granger?" Ron spat coming to an abrupt halt and turning to face his former-flame. "We went our separate ways after the war, due to plain-as-day, irreconcilable differences. You see me and Harry as brothers, and Harry is fine with that. Problem is; I don't regard you as a sister and **never** will. Haven't you ever seen the Muggle motion-picture show called; **When Harry met Sally**?"

"You've been to the cinema?

"Always the tone of surprise," Ron snapped. "Birds and blokes can't be just friends, it never works. God made humans in two genders for a reason."

Hermione stood-there gob-smacked without an answer,

"Good-day Ms. Granger", snarled Ron bitterly before spinning around and disappearing into the judge's chambers.

**Mione POV OoOoOoOo **

Hermione stood motionless, staring at the closed doors as tears began to roll down her cheeks. She was now a brilliant barrister, everyone said so. But since giving a really ill-advised interview down-under …after the war, she'd also lived her life all-but totally-friendless. She'd returned to the UK and went right-off to Hogwarts on the same day …to repeat her seventh year after a summer in Australia finding her parents. But without her two best friends she found life very different.

Bookworms prefer books to people because books aren't offended by an arrogant reader. Once the center of attention because of being a member of the chosen-ones inner circle; she painfully discovered by coming back alone… that she had zero genuine friends **outside** of the trio. Ginny hadn't enjoyed studying any more than Ronald did and after her press-interview which highlighted her brother's shortcomings… whatever friendship Hermione had with the popular prankster quickly ended.

Harry in Auror training him-self …didn't write Hermione all that often, but then again Potter wasn't reputed to be a frequent letter writer. As for Ron it was as if he'd dropped off the face of the earth. Her letters to him like the ones from Australia were returned unopened marked addressee unknown. She hadn't intended to tell him how she really felt about him in a newspaper article and regretted the close-friend she had abruptly lost as a result.

Years later, her lack of genuine people skills still made her an unintentional loner. Her co-workers at the public defender office hated being talked down-too as if they were stupid and she knew everything. She had repeatedly tried extra hard to change this personality-flaw but each renewed effort ended only in failure.

Seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione… the committed career girl - more and more often, was going home **alone**, with her infrequent forays into the pub-dating scene; a series of disastrous evenings; spiced-up with the occasional and totally meaningless… one night stand.

So; after graduation; of which, two years were spent in a magical Law-school (top of her class… of course) Hermione went back to her one bedroom flat, every-night the victim of her own stubborn arrogant feminism. For she had failed to learn the simple ugly-truth that most Ravenclaw House girls had learned first-year, for one of life's great painful-truths was that boasting loudly about how much smarter you are than your date, rarely… if ever, - gets a girl a second evening out.

All those years ago, she had won the love of a boy that hadn't been at all, put-off …by a girl who was loads smarter than himself. Hermione had taken for granted that men like Ron were as common as dirt. Too late she realized the necessity to hide or greatly downplay her superior intellect just to protect the average male of the species sensitive super-fragile masculine ego. And playing dumb was something that Hermione simply refused to do. Reduced to a loveless existence, Hermione over time - began to regret tossing her teenage chance at romance aside.

Now standing outside the judge's chambers Hermione regretted more than ever that rotten interview in Australia. Once reprinted in the _**Daily-Prophet**_ and quoted as saying that she regarded Ron as a brother, just like she did Harry, all contact with her favorite red-head was abruptly transformed to the same level of interaction that she had with her Muggle second-cousins… meaning exchanging standardized birthday and holiday cards in the post – all without a personal message. Hanging-out with Ron; one-on-one like she'd done so often at Hogwarts when Harry had detention… was over.

Hermione still saw Harry now and then, or spoke to him via the floo network. But their occasional get-togethers for a pint at a pub felt awkward to both of them. The source of wit and humor that made being in each other's company bearable …had been provided by the bloke she'd called her other brother. Every time she chatted with Harry the immaturity subject in regards to Ron came up and every time it did made Harry angrier.

****Flashback****

"I can't force him to come, Hermione; he doesn't want to hang-out with you …his so-called sister. He hasn't even seen Ginny, his real sibling for more than a few hours a year and that's primarily at family gatherings during holidays. His job involve loads of traveling, Ginny's still with the Harpies after her injury… as assistant coach. As for sibling nagging; Ron gets loads of that kind of rubbish through marriage with his sisters-in-laws Fleur and Angelina."

"It's been seven years and he's still being childish."

"Perhaps, but in the end… it's his life, and even you should know that telling a bloke that you regard him as a brother is a relationship-killer …nine out of ten times.

"That's ridiculous; men and women can interact without sexual tension. If not; then all men are ruddy-idiots."

"Gee thanks," Harry snorted semi-amused. "But it's still true, saying a bloke is a brother to you, is a total rejection of him as a man, it means you don't find him the least bit attractive... again as a man. Most normal blokes want to be around women that find them desirable and you don't 'feel-that-way' toward Ron.

"We were friends,"

"Being just-friends with a women not related to you by blood is **hard**."

*****end flashbac**k**

OoOoOoOo

Now, all because with a tiny slip of tongue, Hermione felt a tiny sliver of hope, for Ron had unintentionally reveled, that in spite of the hurt she had caused, he still desired more than friendship from her. After a near decade of zero second dates with a cart-load frail-ego blokes, that just had to be the dominate partner in any relationship. Hermione was desperate to be with a man where she didn't have to act like a stereotypical dumb-blonde. She had suffering emotional loneliness on a scale that left her way too often crying herself to sleep.

Hermione stared at the Judges door with a slowly growing smile. Ron's Freudian slip had opened the door for another grab at the brass-ring. She could still have it all, brilliant career and love.

The problem with this kind of window of opportunity for a girl that… rarely; _**if-ever**_ admitted that she was wrong… about anything. Was the question of how to restart a romance …without actually apologizing for a seven-year old foot-in-mouth …interview mistake?

**OoOoOoOo**

**Two months later, **

**Mid-November, 2004**

**OoOoOoOo**

**Neville POV**

Neville Longbottom was a very happy man. Living in total obscurity in rural Kent, he'd been able to put Hannah's betrayal for the most-part; behind him, by simply working fourteen hour days to the point of exhaustion.

Ron as a 'task-master' wasn't one-tenth as bad as his bushy-haired feminist barrister had feared. Mainly because; his new 'master' was rarely around to treat him like a indentured slave. Ron had warned Neville from the get-go that as Lady Prewett Chief Steward he was required to travel extensively. And Neville quickly learned that Ron was rarely in one spot for more than three days in a row.

With his master always off inspecting one of Lady Prewett's estates Neville was for the most part left alone… literally his own boss. Ron had provided a cute if small cottage; located smack-dab in-between two …one hundred and twenty yard long seventy foot wide greenhouses. There were several outbuildings containing supplies for the Botanist compound as it was called, located a full two kilometer from the main Manor-house where the other servant's had their quarters.

Actually, Neville closest neighbor was Ron, who lived in the old renovated gatehouse some hundred odd paces from his own cottage. Although larger than Neville's cottage with the chief Steward always off inspecting Dame Muriel Prewett's other estates; the Gatehouse normally stood empty. Neville had been asked by his boss to keep an eye on Ron's place - which was no bother at all.

Isolated by design from the other servants, Neville had all to himself a two bedroom, one and a-half bath home …and best of all …the finest gardening-materials possible to transform half of the space of two climate-controlled huge-greenhouses floor-space into whatever he pleased.

Greenhouse number one, and twenty yards of greenhouse number two were dedicated to flowers of all types and colors in the rainbow, especially roses. Lady Muriel Prewett did indeed suffer from a major purple-rose fetish, and Neville was required to provide two dozen 'fresh' purple-roses every other day; all year round. Eighty yards of space made fulfilling that task childishly easy.

A house-elf from the main estate collected the flowers and left a parchment note with any special flower requests on the same table where the flowers were picked up. Thus a rejected and cuckolded Botanist could heal without human interaction. Thinking back to his first day as an indentured servant Neville recalled his instructions.

*****Flashback**

"Look Neville, I'm glad to bail you out of a fix and all, but I bought you indenture for a very selfish reason."

"Ron can I ask - - where you'd get the gold? Neville asked nearly overcome with curiosity. "You Weasley's aren't known for having a pile of gold that big."

"I'll have you know that I make 20g a year, that's One hundred thousand British pounds in Muggle money. Not all the bad for what Ms. Grangers calls a 'glorified caretaker.'

"How do you know what she calls you?"

"Harry,"

"You never got over her …did you?"

"Did you get over losing Luna?"

"Touché"

"Anyroad; to tell' you the honest to god truth - I didn't have the full amount. I've invested a-lot of my salary in George's new Qudditch supply shop. So I had to get a loan for half of it from Gringotts."

"And they gave it to you?" Neville said in surprise bordering on shock.

"Well I had a cosigner, my Aunt Muriel."

"In exchange for what?"

"Ten percent of the profits off the top, after expenses and a five year extension of my current employment contract," Ron said in a resigned tone.

Ron then offered Neville a sweet-heart deal. He proposed going into business with his old dorm mate. After fulfilling his flower obligation to Lady Prewett in greenhouse number one… Neville was to grow whatever magical plants yielded the highest cash-crop in greenhouse two and then he and Neville would split the profits; after materials and other costs… fifty-fifty.

As an indentured servant, Neville knew that he couldn't have gold in his own name until his indenture ended, in five years… so to get around this legal sticking point - Ron proposed that they put their combined profits in their new company's corporate Gringotts account - which would be evenly split at the end of Neville's indenture.

"But yours would be the only name on the account …wouldn't it?

"Yes it does break-down to trust that I won't rob you blind. But in case I get killed by a herd of elephants running amuck in London, My will lists you as my primary beneficiary."

"With anyone else I'd be a fool," Neville retorted only to see a hurt look on Ron's face. "But you're the most honorable of all the Weasley Clan… so okay you have a deal. One question though, what does Lady Prewett get out of cosigning the loan for my indenture."

"I pointed out that currently she spends about three hundred galleons a week importing her signature purple roses, that's fifteen thousand six hundred galleons a year," Ron explained. "The five year combined expense adds up to around seventy-eight thousand galleons. By growing those same roses in-house I'd save her ladyship nearly forty-eight thousand galleons above what she cosigned for - over the course of your indenture."

"Yeah, that makes sense." Neville replied.

Ron then explained that the rent on the cottage, room and board were all provided by lady Prewett as part of the cost of getting fresh roses with the only down side of this arrangement being the two house-elves that Ron **insisted** that Neville formally-adopt into his household to look after his personal needs.

"I don't need house-elves, Ron.

"You're going to do your-bit. As a pure-blood I'm frankly surprised that you don't have them already. You're in open violation of the _**Resettlement Act**_

"Do you have house-elves?

"Yes, four of them, two couples.

"Hermione would hex you into next year…" Neville began only to have his amused comment fade away when he saw the anger on Ron's face.

"Ms. Granger first name is not to be mentioned in my presence Neville. I want that clear right from the off", Ron growled. "Her unrealistic attitude toward the house-elf problem with her Muggle-based anti-house-elf-slavery crusade; was the primary reason, that she was sacked from the _**Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures**_. Dobby's obsession with freedom was the exception and not the rule among the elves."

"The entire reason behind the 'Resettlement Act' which Ms. Granger strongly aposed - was to prevent the mass suicides expected by those house elves that find themselves ten years without a living master. So many pure-blood families perished during the Voldemort uprising that even now there are literally hundreds of elves still without families to serve. They'll kill themselves enmass if we wizards don't take them in."

"I had no idea you were so passionate about this," Neville said softly."

"Dobby died for Harry and me, among others", Ron had said sadly. "It's a life debt I will never be able to repay. Ms. Granger's desire to force freedom on magical creatures that consider it the worst of all disgraces - is nothing less than genocide.

"Doesn't she realize …"

"Always right Granger? Are you mental?"

"She naturally knows better than us mere mortals?" Neville said with open scorn.

"Spot-on," Ron replied with a chuckle.

"Is it wrong to assume that I'm not the only one who you've **'pushed' **a house-elf on?

"No you're not wrong. I foster-off house-elves whenever I can. My brother George and his wife Angelina for example both work …so the idea of a pair of house-elves for their home was an easy sale.

"And Harry?"

"I steward his **Grimmauld Place** for him. Kreature is too old and feeble to maintain such a large townhouse on his own, especially after I gutted the place and refurbished it top-to-bottom. So with a generous helping of _**Dobby guilt**_ mixed with a-bit of gentle arm twisting …"

"…how many …total?" Neville interrupted.

"Just ten working elves; five couples, plus their nippers and family elders.

"Wow, and they're all enslaved?"

"Enslaved is a horrible archaic-term Neville, I prefer to look at it as long-term, life-saving… job security."

"Does Granger know about this?

"I don't really care – one way or the other," Ron said rubbing his chin as he thought it over. "Harry gave me card-blank in running the place and a huge pile of gold to renovate it, but since the war he's **not-once** been in the Black ancestral home. Bad memories he tells me."

"I guess so."

"But Harrys excuse doesn't really wash, I gutted the place; Neville. I removed ninety-nine percent of the Black family stuff. I only left the Black family tree tapestry room relatively intact and I restored all the burned out names on it …like Sirius and Andromeda."

"I even added Tonks and Teddy onto the black family tree and then went on to fill every square inch of Grimmauld Place wall space with equal amounts of Potter and Lupin family moving photo's or oil portraits. As Harry told me of his intention to turn the place over to Teddy when he's old enough, so I had to borrow as many photo's that Andromeda had of Teddy's mum and dad."

"I tell you it cost a ruddy fortune to convert magical photographs into magically animated oil paintings. But as a result of Harry's wishes in the tapestry room I have hung life sized **magical portraits** of Lily and James, Tonks and Remus, Dumbledore and there is even one of my brother Fred. I did all of it to make it comfortable to the rich bloke who never visits."

Neville couldn't help but wonder if Ron's estranged best-friends would ever realized to what lengths Ron had gone to advance their desires, Harry a home filled with family memories and Granger and her house-elf welfare campaign.

**OoOoOoOo **

Looking back objectively at his ill-fated marriage with Hannah, Neville openly wondered what he'd ever seen in the top-heavy bar-maid. He'd led a lonely life after his parents and then his Gran; Augusta had all died within weeks of one another, several years back due to an outbreak of deadly Asian magical flu. Maybe Hannah had sensed his loneliness and took unfair advantage of it.

Ironically as the three sisters of fate would have-it, the 'Caldron Cougar' as the _**Prophet**_ began to call Hannah after the story of her affair with Dennis was somehow leaked to the press. Poor Hannah hadn't apparently gotten off completely Scott-free, from her many marital indiscretions… for her much younger boy-toy; Dennis, had put a bum in Hannah's oven …the night Neville had caught-them both in the act of shagging like rabbits.

In the excitement of Neville's revenge assault, Hannah had forgotten to do the _**morning after**_ contraceptive-hex, and now it was rumored that Hannah was waiting tables at the _**'Leaky Caldron'**_ with an ever thickening baby-bulge.

She had cleaned out the Longbottom Gringotts account while Neville had sat in Azkaban jail-cell awaiting trial. So he entered his indenture literally penniless. A paternity-suit filed on behalf of his estranged wife Hannah by a hired solicitor; caused Neville to ask Ron for the gold to hire a barrister to defend him-self.

Ron hadn't objected when Neville had hired Hermione again to be his advocate. Her vigorous defense resulted in a very public and humiliating magical paternity-identity-test that thankfully proved Hannah's baby to be Dennis's love-child and not Neville's.

Once the _**Daily Prophet**_ got-ahold of that news tidbit; Neville was able to beg yet another gold-loan from Ron… against his share of the flower business profits - enough gold at least for Neville to hire legal muscle …Hermione once again, to handle his divorce petition against Hannah.

Her love child with Dennis now public knowledge… allowed the cockolded Longbottom to proceed with his divorce petition charge of adultery against Hannah. Her proven pregnancy by the co-defendant in the suit …a bloke other than her husband made the divorce look like a slam-dunk legally speaking.

The only oddity was in the fact that Hannah for reasons unknown was fighting the divorce with every means legally possible. Her barrister every week repeated requested reconciliation between the two parties and when told of it by a clearly puzzled Hermione, Neville looked more and more amazed.

On a more personal level, Neville's dream-blonde still hadn't shown-up either …but then again, even his sex-filled recurring dreams had ended abruptly on the same night that Voldemort had finally 'bought-the-farm'. Maybe the two events were connected somehow, the demise of the dark-lord and his dreamt-about white-blonde Bellatrix wantabe?

Anyway, Neville hadn't seen his white-blonde in his dreams for many years now. He'd meet three women with that platinum hair-color since the war, but there had been no sparks, no desperate-urgency to mate. There was a growing part of Neville's mind that was really-sad that his wanking dream-girl hadn't been real after all.

OoOoOoOo

It was mid-afternoon, and Neville was in a special underground room underneath greenhouse number one's concrete floor, working strictly under artificial moonlight harvesting some hard to cultivate 'Wolfbane' plants for the biggest commercial potion ingredient company in the U.K.; _**Mathew & Lewis Potion Supplies LTD**_ which had a wholesale potion-supply shop across from to _**Grint's Wizarding Chess Supplies**_ in Knockturn Alley. Neville and Ron did loads of business with M&L Greenery, and Neville's share of the gold piling up in the _**L&W greenery ltd**_ Gringotts business account was growing fat as a result.

The trouble with cultivating Wolfbane plants was the normal light – particularly natural daylight …instantly killed the highly profitable plants. To get around this difficulty Ron had transformed a windowless root cellar into an elongated photograph style darkroom. From the outer door there were two Muggle developing-room turnstiles doors that prevented outside light from coming into the moon-room.

It was there that Ron – fresh from yet another inspection tour - found Neville; half-way down the length of the moon room, bent-over several pots … carefully cutting leaves off a Wolfbane plant, with a small open shipping-crate next to him sitting upon a wheeled-dolly.

"Hey-mate, stop what you're doing and get cleaned-up, the boss wants to see-you up at the big-house."

"Ron is that you? Welcome back, how was Germany?"

"Yeah it's me – I just got in – and not good. The Prewett castle of _**Odo de Metz**_ located just north of the city of **Aachen** had a huge-fire recently, and I think the Prewett Steward in-charge there deliberately set-it."

"Why for Merlin's sake."

"To cover-up his wife's possible murder and perhaps the art he's might have been stealing. I gave a list of the art on site to the local Auror's and if any of it shows-up on the black-market, Han's arse is toast."

"Does that happen often?"

"Murder rarely - and as for art theft, not as much as it used to," Ron replied smugly. "I did a full audit and inventory of all of Lady Prewett's properties three years ago, right down to the finger-bowls. Frequent surprise inventory-audits over the last few years has cut-down thief dramatically… but occasionally; we still-get a bad-egg."

"And then -"

"- They go to jail. I have zero tolerance for sticky-fingers among Milady's' human employees. It's said that the Germans have a Wizarding prison that makes Azkaban look-like a five-star resort on the Rivera by comparison …especially when it comes to prisoner comfort. If the Prewett-steward of Lady Muriel's **Aachen** estate is proven to be the arsonist, or a murderer, - - Merlin, help-him."

"And the house-elves?"

"They survived the fire, thank-god. My best security system – as a matter of fact;" Ron said literally beaming with delight. "Treat magical creatures with respect, improve their living conditions and honor their traditions and the return in loyalty alone; repays the investment, a thousand fold."

"Then Hermione was right… " Neville began; although his voice faded when he saw Ron frown deeply.

"**What did I tell you …**about usingGranger's first name around me" - - Ron shouted before quickly regaining his self-control – "and NO she was wrong …_**dead wrong**_, that stupid bint still wants to free the entire-lot.

"Yes –yes – calm-down, Ron you're preaching to the choir," Neville said lifting both hands up in surrender to forestall Ron from losing his temper again. "I've spoken in length - to my house-elves on the subject and you are right. Freedom to a house-elf is as socially unacceptable to elves …as having sex with a Centaur is to Wizarding society. Nine out of ten freed house-elves commit suicide with ten years of losing their masters; just like poor Winky did."

"Winky… you remember Winky?"

"Barty Crotch's elf; got herself-sacked during the Quidditch World Cup back in 94. She was dead by late 97, drank-herself to death on butterbeer. She helped me loads with the DA while the trio was off on your seventh year camping trip. She snuck food into us in the room of requirement, washed clothing, all by her-self mind-you?"

"And before you say it… I know full-well that Granger learned nothing from Winky's death", Neville continued with contempt. "But she is a dam good barrister, that works cheap and as long as I can put up with her holier than thou rants on how superior the Muggle's are morally to us primitive wizards. She's just the bird to free me from Hannah."

"She did it all the time, over and over again, during our Hogwarts years; trying to impose Muggle values on our Wizarding community. I tried to point out … **just once**, that it took countless centuries to wean human civilization of slavery, and human slaves were the same species as their masters – but my pleas naturally fell on deaf ears. House-elves are not-even remotely Human, their magical and their difference in species alone… their …their"… Ron said furiously, stopping abruptly when he realized he was shouting at his friend. "You just can't have an intelligent conversation with a woman who doesn't think you smart enough to tie your shoes properly."

"Yeah, I found that out for myself - thanks," Neville replied.

"Sorry, Neville," Ron said apologetically… blushing hard. "I forget that you have to deal with her now for the sake of your divorce. I imagine you are now on the receiving end of her morality rants, just like I use to be."

"And I don't have the incentive to put up with it like you did back at Hogwarts. The plight of house-elves was always a point of friction between **you-two** and it's odd that even after all these years …your **non-blood related** sibling …can still make you crazy."

"I wanted to shag her, I wasn't thinking with the right head," Ron said trying to make a lame joke

"Bullocks, you still love her," Neville retorted.

"Yeah, but as everyone in England knows - it was never requited, so I'm still the only one that's pining away for a long-ago lost love. Besides; as one of the '_**Golden Duo**_' from the war - every time our national heroine goes-out on a date - its national news," Ron said somewhat bitterly… taking a deep steadying breath… shook his head to clear-it as he stiffened his back in resolve.

"Pathetic; the pair of us, Cupid must really hate-us, Neville. We're extra-handsome charming-blokes, and yet were attracted to the wrong sort of birds. Girls that only want to be our sister's," He said with his famous ironic wit.

"Oh yeah; we're so hot looking, we have to beat the birds off with sticks". Neville joked back.

"Well get yourself cleaned-up. Lady Muriel, a-waits.

OoOoOoOo

An to my **sole** reader – what do you think? I'm trying to keep my chapter size down.


	3. Chapter 3

Story title: **the Gentleman Preferred Blondes**

Chapter 3; entitled: **picking up strays **

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count:

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Remember this stuff from chapter one?**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Warning # 2**; I hate stereotypes, so don't expect my version of the Harry Potter story to have prefect little Heroes. Also the bulk of this story takes place seven years after book seven, the characters are therefore **ADULTS. **In 2004, Neville Longbottom, Harry and Ron would be twenty-four with Hermione barely twenty-five.

**Warning # 3**; there will be loads of sub-plots and other odd-pairings. …I love JKR to death, but as a romance author …lets just say …I feel she fumbled the Quaffle. I feel that Rowling's notion that teenagers of seventeen and eighteen have no interest in having sex …is just laughable

So besides the usual HP couple's… this tale will contain an unusual Neville romantic ship; _**among others**_. So if I wander off and do another couple's romance, sit back and enjoy the ride! All other relationships as outlined in the Epilog in book seven or in JKR interviews are hereby _**Null and Void**_ …unless I say otherwise.

Will there be sexual innuendo? 'Yeah - Duh'

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Time-frame**: begins in the last chapter of HBP, its midnight, around **mid-June, 1997** …some two days before Dumbledore's funeral.

**I couldn't sleep - so I posted this, don't expect this to happen again. **

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**Roll film**

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The Prewett estate in Kent was the Largest of the Prewett land holdings within the United Kingdom. It covered just over nineteen hundred twenty acres; or three square miles and yet employed less than two hundred; fifteen witch/wizards and one hundred twenty house-elves. The château/castle itself was first built in the fifteenth century and had been magically renovated and improved a dozen times over the centuries. The chief Warden of the main Prewett estate was one of Ron rescued Slytherin's.

After the war, loads of snakes found getting work next to impossible; even the ones who fought against the Death eaters at the Battle of Hogwarts. One of those that fought with Harry was, after the others had departed was Millicent Bulstrode. Although she been a member of Umbridge's Inquisitorial squad during her fifth-year, Millicent and six others hadn't walked out with the other snakes before the battle and two had died defending the castle. Because of their efforts, all attempts to close Slytherin house after the war (for all time) as the breeding ground of evil wizards were rebuffed.

Ron had been carefully taught by his parents the meaning of a life debt. He felt such a debt for Dobby and for Neville for leading the DA in Hogwarts while he had been on his year-long 'on-and-off' camping trip with the national hero and heroine… 'Potter and Granger'. Ron also felt a similar debt for those six Slytherin students that made a stand for what was right over what was easy. Therefore he made a personal point of keeping track of those six families, especially those of the fallen and went to extra-pains to see that these heroes weren't punished for being on the winning side.

Cadmus Montague and Adrian Higgs for example, sixth-year in Slytherin's at the time of the battle of Hogwarts …all worked in one of Dame Prewett's Wizarding companies while Valerie Vaisey was doing her final internship at St. Mungo's hospital as a healer, her entire post Hogwarts education funded by Lady Prewett at Ron's discrete suggestion. Some of the other members of the _**six Families**_ found employment on some of the Prewett's many-estates. The message was subtle but generally well received. 'Not all Snakes are bad."

Neville had found this out… discretely through another old dorm-mate; Dean Thomas a magical artist that the chief steward of the Prewett estates kept employed doing repair work for the too numerous to count magical portrait's on the various Prewett castles. Neville and Dean still shared the occasional pint in a local pub, to catch-up on those rare occasions when the artist worked at the main estate in Kent.

*** **begin** **Flashback**

"So he rescued you too?" Dean had said.

"From ten years in Azkaban… yeah,"

"A year ago I was all but starving, working odd jobs to keep body and soul together. Next thing I knew I had more art-work than I could handle …a warm clean bed and three square meals a day."

"How'd he know about your plight?"

"Luna …I think, we dated briefly after the war, and she's been keeping tabs on all us DA veterans for him."

"What about Potter?"

"The National Hero, don't make me laugh! Potter has no time or interest in his old dorm mates beyond Ron. Outside of his work at the Ministry, Harry is a ruddy recluse these-day's. The press still follows him around everywhere he goes. He can't go to the loo without a five page photo-shoot appearing in '_**Witch Weekly**_'."

"I saw that, had a good laugh about it too". Neville said with a soft chuckle

"I was brought up a half-blood living in the Muggle world and believe me…Nev. The press harasses Harry a thousand times worse than they did poor Princess Diane. I've even been told that Harry has to use a glamour-spell… hide his identity, just to walk out the door. He can't go undercover or any work as a regular Auror; so he's stuck doing administrative junk. For years now… he's tried to put his Chosen-One identity behind him and all us in the DA along with it."

"…and Ron doesn't?"

"You and I are proof positive that unlike Potter, Ron doesn't forget his friends. Hell's-bells, he even rescues Slytherin's".

"Yeah we've been luckier than most. But how did Luna know." Neville said trying hard to keep the jealousy of Dean's relationship with Luna out his voice.

"How does Luna know half of what she knows, the Celtic **Gods** told her," Dean said his bitterness obvious. "That's why we broke up …the Gods told her we weren't combatable."

"She did the same thing to me."

"Oh yeah …I know it well… heard loads about you and her", Dean retorted bitterly. "I never quite lived-up to your high-standard… in bedroom-skills. Compared us she did, with me always on the losing end. Sexually you walked on water as far as Luna was concerned.?

"You're pulling my leg?"

"No mate, I'm really not," Dean said honestly. "She went mental when she heard that you'd married Hannah, said it wouldn't last... and odd thing is, she was spot-on about that too. More than once Luna told me that Abbott wasn't your destined life-mate any more than she was mine."

"Destiny my-sweet arse", Neville snapped. "It's far more likely that we're cursed to be bachelors until the end of our days."

"Speak for yourself mate, Luna said I'd meet my future life-mate real soon. She also said the last time we met for lunch that there was a platinum-blonde coming your way." Neville's eyes went wide at this news and stared at Dean utterly gob-smacked.

"If you want to pity someone," Dean continued oblivious to his friend's state of shock. "Feel sorry for the bloke who saved both our sorry asses. For Luna as-of a fortnight ago, remains unshakable in her belief that our Ronnie great-love will always be Granger. And as our old-school-chum and resident-bookworm thinks of Ron as a brother …well …it's sad really."

****** Flashback ends**

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"Ron …I know this may sound odd, but are you dating anyone?" Neville asked with forced casualness as they entered the main Manor house through the Kitchen delivery door.

"What prompted that question?" Ron replied a-bit surprised.

"Well …we're neighbors and I've never seen you bring a bird home."

"Right from the off, you've only been my neighbor for a couple of months and in that time I've been at home a total of five days. Secondly my job makes having a relationship next to impossible."

"Don't you get time off?"

"Yes, milady tries to insist that I take two fortnight holidays each year". Ron replied as he walked through the kitchen nicking a pastry as he went. "But I can never go at the same time two years in a row, the operative word in surprise audit of one of milady's estates is surprise …as in unexpected."

"A twenty eight day holiday… wow?"

"It would be **if** I had the time to take it, but just between us. I don't. When I'm on holiday from the Prewett estates, I use the time to inspect and do repair work on Potter's property at Grimmauld Place in London or the lord High Justice estate in Kent."

"So no free time at all?"

"…A four-day holiday, once in a great while… but otherwise; no… besides; my days of being a lazy **Git** for days on end - are long gone. So you see dating anyone would be unfair to any lady that struck my fancy. I couldn't court her properly."

"Don't kid a kidder," Neville said with surprising insight. "You're avoiding relationships aren't you? Burying your-self in work for seven ruddy-years? I know that ploy – I'm currently using it to get over Hannah."

"I suck at love, okay? Besides what bird in her right mind would fancy a penniless property manager."

"Now I know you're pulling my leg? Dean says your pay-bucket is…"

"…Was spent …every last ruddy Knut; getting an old school chum out of Azkaban."

"All of it …paid my penalty?

"Heavens no, don't you remember I'm sure I told you - I had to borrow a considerable sum from my employer to bail you out. My contract was up this year you see and I'd already given my notice. I was counting down the days, Neville.

"But Dean says you're the best Chief Steward in England?"

"I must thank him later for the unsolicited praise, but after the past few years… I'm worn out, Neville… burned-out rather", Ron said with an exhausted sigh. "On the go …non-stop for years-on-end, just to keep her out of my head. My love life is deliberately non-existent because I can't bring myself to be unfaithful too… oh hell."

"- - There are perhaps ten thousand total witches and wizards in in the entire United Kingdom; we have one and only one magical village and only two places to shop in all four countries. Our society is just too bloody small for me and her to co-exist as non-blood siblings. But after years of living in pain, I finally figured it out. I even had a plan. I had saved up, for years… thirty thousand, planed on disappearing on a year-long holiday, a round the world trip, see the sights… and then start a new life somewhere far away from …**her**."

"…And you gave it all-up for me?" Neville said tearfully.

"For a dorm-mate and slayer of Voldemort's pet snake …in a heartbeat, old chum."

"How much do you owe Lady Prewett?"

"Milady doesn't want her gold back, she wanted an indenture instead… mine! Couldn't bear the thought of losing my services…or so she said, at the time …so ironically - my bond-slavery will end on the same day that yours does, - isn't that just peachy?"

"Why did you get the money from Lady Prewett? Couldn't Harry have given you, his very best-mate …a ruddy-loan?"

"I'll answer your question with a question", Ron said as he and Neville approached Milady Prewett office door. "Didn't your bookworm barrister approach her best-friend/and non-blood bother …for the cash, when she also tried to raise your indenture bail-out?"

"Hermione said, because Harry was with law-enforcement and faced the risk of conflict of interest within his department if he helped me…" Neville began to explain in a clearly bitter-tone.

"…He didn't want to get involved… yeah, that's what he told me when I asked too," Ron said with bitter disappointment.

**OoOoOoOo**

"Hello Ronnie."

"Millicent you sexy devil, how are you?"

"Always the charmer; aren't you, Ronnie? When will you use the front door, Milady has told you often enough that she prefer you enter that way."

"The front door isn't for indentured servants like Neville and me."

"Milady does not regard you as a servant, Ron.

"Long term hired contract-employee … indentured servant… same thing really."

"Not to Milady."

"Millie …have you met one of my best-mates from Hogwarts …Neville Longbottom?"

"Now; Ronnie …I mean honestly. No one lives on this estate without me knowing about it. So when you moved this bloke into the old gardener's cottage, I paid him a visit. We had a real nice little-chat... very informative. You just can't stop yourself …can you? Rescuing the magical-strays rejected by our prefect society."

"Hey, it's just a hobby… something to fill my otherwise empty evenings," Ron joked. "Anyroad; Milady Prewett wishes to see Neville here …"

"…Not just the botanist; Ronnie, you too are summoned."

"Me?"

"Yes, you too Ronnie, so come along like a good ickle-boy. And don't… "

"…How about giving a little respect; Millie," Ron interrupted, "for the bloke who; 'hired-you'?"

"You only vouched for me Ronnie, it was Milady that hired me and you know it. And don't bother introducing Neville to Milady; I wasn't the only one to pay him a visit for a chat while you were off doing your Steward inspections. "

"Skunked again", Ron chuckled softly with Millie who chuckled as well - at a shared private-joke, as she opened the door to Lady Muriel Prewett private study/office.

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Muriel POV

Muriel Prewett was a usually stern grey-haired woman, one hundred five years of age and the supreme patriarch of the great Prewett Clan. Forty-five families looked to her for leadership and financial support. And yet among all her kinsmen and women that she had tested with part-time employment, in the end she had been forced to go outside the Prewett inner-family to find a young man with true-grit. All of the others she had tested on her estates had lacked the metal to do **'the task'** as foretold to her by a seer decades ago.

Ronald was the youngest son of Molly, the only Prewett stubborn-enough to defy her family to marry a poor as dirt Weasley. Muriel hadn't believed at the time that any good would come of it …for one by one - she had tried to test the metal of Molly's children. Bill had refused her offer out-right, Charles had gone off to his dragons and the twins had opened a joke shop - leaving only Ronald to begrudgingly take her patronage when George had sold the joke-shop out from under him.

It is said that the strongest metal is made in the hottest fires, with Ronald being a good example of this motto. The apparent romantic betrayal of Granger and then his brother over the joke-shop **all** within a year of Voldemort's defeat would have easily broken a lesser man's spirit. And yet - overlooked by history for his part in the defeat of the Death-eaters hadn't striped Ron of his unshakable sense of loyalty to his friends. Rescuing Longbottom from Azkaban - when others had turned their backs on him was a perfect example of this. Muriel having spoken in length with Neville and saw what the others did not.

Longbottom life debt of loyalty to his "master' was borderline fanatical. Neville would literally march into hell for Ron as would any of Ron's rescued snakes. Mille Bulstrode was a dear girl and her industry on her behalf made her irreplaceable and yet Muriel knew that Mille would defend Ron in any argument with Muriel with her dying breath. Few men had stirred such unquestioned loyalty from so many in such understated ways. No speeches, no false promises like a Politian - and yet the magical folk and house-elves that worked for her had unchallenged trust in Ron's fairness.

It also never failed to amuse Lady Muriel Prewett that of all her employees Ron alone never forgot to bow as if before royalty whenever he entered his Aunts presence, with a nod and a smile in acknowledgement - her nephew straighten up.

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**End transmission – for now**

**Author's rant # 1: ** Once upon a time, I decide to try something different. Well not different per-say, for others – loads of others …have taken the evil ferret as Ms. JK Rowling wrote the Git and transform him in prose into a nicer guy by far than both cannon Harry and Ron combined… on their best day.

As I said this has been done many times – in Fanfiction ships dedicated to DMHJG, DM-Ginny, DM-Luna and DM and anything wearing a skirt. Not to mention the slash pairings. I was going to have a go my-self at this totally non-cannon version of Draco the gift of god to whatever other gender he fancies - and for the excuse for his total transformation into a NICE person – I intended to magically change his gender via the killing curse.

Luckily for my non-existent readership – I was talked-out of this bit of **temporary insanity** by my mentor and friend. So if anyone is concerned about Neville ending up in bed with a female Draco – FORGET IT - - Ain't going to happen - okay? So please put down the feathers and stop heating the tar.

I still have a tale to tell in my incompetent amateurish fashion, abusing the Queen's English right left and center. My outline (yes Buck I do have one) is still **mostly** on track.

Naturally the true identity of Neville's lover (spoiler if you want to take that way) will have to **change** plus a few other minor details - causing writer-block style delays in posting chapters. (Insert here - a lame excuse for laziness)

Truth is I don't want to use a Mary-Jane, so I'm open to cannon suggestions.

Enough said. (PS. now with this rant off my chest - maybe I can sleep)


	4. Chapter 4

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 4; entitled: **the Lazarus Plant**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 4,948

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

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"Milady you called?"

"Yes Nephew, Thank-you Mille that will be all, you may return to your duties now."

"Yes Milady, see you later Ronnie." Millie said with a humor-filled, flirtatious wink as she left.

"Ronald, let's begin with your report."

"Yes Milady, The castle at '_**Odo de Metz**_' near **Aachen** is, I regret to say… a total loss, the artwork, that did not automatically portkey to the insurance warehouse in **Liege** when the fire-alarm triggered, were all destroyed. One body was found in the rubble, which was identified as belonging to Margaret Stein - the warden's wife. Local Wizarding law-enforcement has declared it a crime-scene; arson in an attempt to cover up a marital murder."

"I've spent the last four days sifting through the rubble with the Insurance investigator prior to him formally accepting our claim. I have also taken the liberty to engage that German firm you fancy; for a preliminary estimate concerning the rebuilding. I intend to return to **Aachen**, late-tomorrow after filling out a claim with the magical _**'Lloyd's of London'**_…to oversee reconstruction."

"Finally; Magical Interpol has a warrant posted for the arrest of Hans Stein the warden of the castle and it's only a matter of time before he's caught …"

"…Hans is dead, Ronald;" Muriel interrupted, "his body is currently lying in the city morgue of **Antwerp. **We were fortunate that the object the thieves were actually after …did not fall into the wrong hands. Margaret died in a rearguard action to buy time for her husband to escape with the '**Charlemagne Livery Collar**'."

"The what?,"

"A Livery Collar; it's also known as the **Charlemagne Society Chain of office** and has been worn by the high priestess of that society for several centuries now."

"Is this collar that valuable?"

"It contained a magically preserved cutting from the Lazarus plant."

"…that's not possible," Neville interrupted automatically

"Why not Mister Longbottom?," Muriel asked her eyes twinkling in growing excitement.

"Forgive me Milady …I spoke out of turn."

"No-no, go-on …I insist."

"Well, excuse me for saying so ma'am …but the Lazarus plant is a myth, on the same lines of the lead-into-gold fairytale surrounding Alchemy," Neville said feeling embarrassed about his unfortunate slip of tongue. "If wizards could actually turn lead into gold we'd all be fabulously wealthy."

"Is that **all** you know about the Lazarus Plant …that it's a myth?"

"No milady."

"Then by all means, please; 'expound,' - Mr. Longbottom, why is the '**Charlemagne Livery Collar' **considereda myth?"

"With all due respect ma'am; I didn't say the Collar was a myth," Neville said in an apologetic tone. "I'm sure the Chain of Office really does-exist - nor am I denying that it might have contained a cutting of a real plant. It's the rubbish that it's actually Merlin's legendary _Lazarus plant_ that I disbelieve."

"And why is that?"

"The legend says that Merlin, him-self ...cultivated a magical plant that bloomed three radically different flowers and these flowers were the critical ingredients in his infamous resurrection potion that could bring the dead back to life… specifically; the once and future King; Arthur Pendragon, King of all the Britain's. Just the assumption that a single plant can bloom three different flowers …in itself …puts the _**Lazarus Plant**_ into the realm of fable."

"You don't believe in the Arthur Legend I take it?"

"No ma'am and with good reason," Neville spat his anger clearly apparent. "The Camelot legend states that Arthur at the brink of death was stolen away by the witches of Avalon; fed the resurrection potion so as to preserve the Kings body until that time when **all** of Britain had fallen under the spell of evil. Then he and his knights would awaken and ride forth and destroy the mortal-tools of Lucifer …for God and Saint George."

"Well done Mr. Longbottom …that is the basic legend. Now tell me what makes you such a doubting Thomas?"

"Seven years ago, the entire United Kingdom fell to evil in the form of Voldemort when he seized control of the Ministry. Huge atrocities were committed. Where was your precious Arthur Pendragon then …eh?"

"Are you sure that all of Britain fell to the Death Eaters?" Muriel said smugly. "I don't deny that Voldemort took-over the Ministry, but wasn't there resistance to his rule, didn't you take charge of 'Dumbledore Army' and lead your fellow students in the battle for Hogwarts?"

"Didn't Ronald's brother Percy… become a modern-day **Scarlett Pimpernel** acting within the Ministry itself, rescuing countless Muggle-born victims from Umbridge and the Dementor's? I read the account myself in his semi-authorized autobiography, written by Elyse3." (A shameless plug for great hp story)

"Was not Ronald here – my own nephew – shamefully overlooked by history, unwavering in his loyalty to the Chosen one, steadfast and true to the cause of freedom."

"Hold-on a second, - I wasn't steadfast or unwavering, there was a point where I abandoned both Potter and Granger," Ron said in humiliating honesty. "I was a coward during the war… just like I told you. I'm not a genuine hero like Neville was. Honestly -Aunt Muriel; I don't deserve to be remembered."

"Rubbish, Ronald. Do we have to go over this again …?"

"You didn't convince me the last ten times you brought it up, but let's not get side tracked here… okay? And Nev …old-chum, Milady has a valid point here. As long as you and the DA resisted …old Tommie hadn't taken over **ALL** of Britain, which was the event that would have 'triggered' King Arthur's wake-up call."

"Spot on nephew," Muriel said smugly… "Which brings me back to the reason behind why I wanted to see you? Merlin was a seer as well as a powerful wizard. He foresaw a time when all of mainland Europe might fall to evil. So he brewed enough potion to resurrect Arthur and three of his knights to save the United Kingdom of Great Britain; Scotland, Wales and Ireland. And then in an amazing bit of foresight …Merlin also brewed enough potions for Charlemagne and his three knights to save the Holy Roman Empire on the Continent.

"And one plant can do all that?"

"Yes …but we've run into a-bit of a problem. The witches of Avalon received two livery collars before Merlin was lured away from Arthur by the Lady of the lake - a witch called, **Nimue **a sympathetic and tragic young priestess of Avalon who fell in love with the Merlin - but was duty bound to seduce and lure him into his eternal imprisonment."

"According to the legend surrounding the Prioress of Avalon; inside the two Collars were three vials containing the three potions …made from the three different flowers that repaired, preserved and then re-awaken the two kings and their knights. So two of the three vials connected to the process have already been used; one set here and the other in **Aachen** the capital of Charlemagne's empire.''

"_**THE FIRE"**_

"Exactly… we believe that at first, Voldemort rejected using the **Lazarus plant** because the potion does not grant immortality. It extends the life span of the person taking it by several centuries, but does not prevent death."

"Merlin's test subject for the resurrection potion was a knight named Gawain; he was torn apart literally by three mountain trolls while defending a very pregnant Queen Guinevere on her way to London. His death while defending a damsel in distress caused Guinevere to petition Merlin to bring Sir Gawain back from the land of the dead."

"Three days later she gave birth to Arthur's only legitimate son; Lohol. But his fate is another story for another time."

"Sir Gawain proved that the potion work, it allegedly restored the horribly mutilated man to full youth and vigor, at the cusp of manhood - - curing him of all mortal imperfections. Corrected his bad eyesight and club foot; which had condemned him to a pronounced limp… the potion also made him nearly invincible in battle, while increasing his ability to heal quickly …ten thousand fold."

"But most importantly it gave him perfect health for four hundred and twenty five years. Sir Gawain eventually died peacefully in his sleep, but as he did die … and because of that fact alone… Voldemort left the witches of Avalon alone both times he tried to take power."

"I take it that you are currently - one of the witches of Avalon and the peaceful status-quoi has recently changed," Ron said in a matter of fact tone.

"Yes Nephew, I joined Avalon as a young girl and it's also true that the current prioress of the witches of Avalon is convinced that the remaining Death-Eaters 'still at large' are behind both these attacks; one here in Britain and the other in **Aachen**… with their ultimate goal; to restore Voldemort to the land of the living. All they need… after all … is a sliver of his DNA from the bones of his original body - that was killed when Mr. Potter was a one year old - mixed with the third does of the resurrection potion

"How would that …?"

"A Dementor's kiss removes the soul from a still living body. The third and final dose of the resurrection potion restores the soul into a semi-lifeless body …which in-turn causes the deceased to fully-reawaken back into the land of the living. If the Death Eaters were to mix Tom Riddles DNA with the third potion and pour it into the mouth of a **living empty-shell** of an otherwise health wizard; deprived of its soul by the Dementor kiss. Then Voldemort with his sundered soul …now whole and reunited …would inhabit the body and thus …live again."

"Oh Bloody-hell, we're so screwed."

"Not yet we're not, The Death Eaters obtained **by force** …the Livery collar from the Priory of Avalon …but not before the late Prioress smashed and thus destroyed the third vial - a tasks she accomplished just before she her-self, was murdered. So they didn't get a quick way to bring back the Dark-Lord. We know this much for certain, because the same kind of attack just happened in **Aachen**."

"Once again the resurrection potion vial was destroyed… the difference being; that this time the Death Eaters didn't get-away with the Charlemagne Livery Collar. Sealed inside that chain of office were three things, besides the three now empty potion vials. A bud of the Lazarus plant, a group of Lazarus plant seeds - and a set of encoded instruction scrolls on how to cultivate, harvest, brew and then administer the resurrection potion."

"So it's a race?"

"Yes, in a way. The Death Eaters have-had a four month head-start with the bud they found incased in the Avalon Livery Collar. They have to decode the scrolls as do we … so we have to make up a-lot of ground really-quick. Most important they have to hire a linguist and a code-breaker to make the instructions understandable."

"Milady, the more people you bring in on a secret …the harder it will be to keep," Ron pointed out.

"I fully-understand that principal, nephew, and the Death-eaters, if they are indeed the villain's we are facing," Muriel said with a sad knowing smile, "will be under the same limitations that you will be. The more people in the know …the more likely their attempt to cultivate the Lazarus plants will be discovered and revealed by a minion during a plea-bargain deal with Law enforcement. Or in our case; a spy working for gold …might sell critical information back to the enemy."

"**Their** ultimate goal is to bring back Voldemort," Muriel declared firmly, "Whereas we merely want the means to awaken Arthur and Charlemagne - if the whole world gets close to falling under the rule of total evil. Both their operation and ours must be conducted in total secret with full disclosure limited to a bare minimum."

"How did you obtain the Charlemagne Livery Collar if the warder and his wife are both dead?"

"A third party brought it to me; a Miss Mudge, who just 'happened' to come across Hans laying half-dead in a ditch outside of _**Antwerp**_. Rebecca …her first name; by-the-way …was the one that got Hans to hospital where he _**allegedly**_ …told her about the Arthur Legend before he died."

"Allegedly?" Ron asked in a questioning-worried tone.

"I've got a bad feeling about the girl. Something about Rebecca's story - doesn't ring true with me. As far as I can ascertain, she doesn't have the Dark-mark on her left-forearm nor is she a member of either the Avalon's or the Charlemagne covens."

"On the other hand the extent of her knowledge is frankly unsettling …she knows too many of the obscure details for a mere passerby that just stumbled-across our fatally wounded Hans. That Miss Mudge also just happens to be the youngest …fully 'licensed' potion mistress in living memory - stretches coincidence in all this to beyond believability."

"Fate isn't that kind to me either …generally speaking," Ron lamented sadly. "You're right Milady… this smells like a royal set-up.

"I fully agree …but the question remains, a set-up by whom? Regretfully we don't have the luxury of time to solve this puzzle - for the source of us getting the collar isn't our only problem; Nephew …when this jet-black haired, green-eyed potion mistress came to me she demanded; as a precondition for her cooperation …my _**unbreakable oath**_ that in exchange for handing over the Charlemagne Livery Collar …in addition to a huge payoff in gold …she insisted that she'd be the one to actually make the resurrection potion."

She also proclaimed as nonnegotiable that we had to use her choice of expert linguist/code breaker. That the young woman she hired is also her legal advocate and well known to both of you – this definitely cannot be a mere coincidence."

"Sweet Merlin …don't tell me! Ron moaned.

"I'm afraid so, your old-flame, the brilliant and so-call always right …Miss Granger will be a-part of our little four person project."

"I refuse to work with that … witch." Ron snarled.

"You have no more choice in this than I do," Muriel replied.

"But you'll be in direct charge Milady …not me …right?" Ron asked hopefully almost desperate to get away from being around Hermione due to the effect she still had on him.

"Heavens No, in fact …as of this moment, I'm relieving you of all other responsibilities'. I've already arranged for your old mentor - Thaddeus Thorn to come out of retirement take over all your Steward duties; both here and on the Continent," Muriel said firmly.

"I will handle external security, while Mille will provide all on site logistic support. But you my dear Nephew …are to take personal charge of this entire project from this point until the end – no matter how long it takes. But don't worry about stumbling about clueless as to what to do next. I'm not Potter and this isn't your infamous year-long camping trip.

"I told you about that in strictest confidence," Ron hissed angrily.

"Don't fuss so …no one else knows about the locket incident. But like I said, I'm not Potter, so you'll get full disclosure before you start on this hunt. I have prepared a pensive with everything the Avalon witches know about the _**Lazarus**_ plant, Merlin's _**Ambrosius's**_ flowers and the three different potions those flowers make. There is also a detailed breakdown of all the principal players in the creation of the original resurrection potion."

"Isn't that dangerous, putting all that information in - -" Ron began.

"- - In one place … yes it would be …if we allowed more than one mind to contain all that information. Avalon has spelled a Pensive to down-load only once …for **you** only. It contains information that even I don't have. Information on the legend I never wanted to have."

"After the pensive you will know more than any person living about Merlin's _**Ambrosius's flowers**_; and as Avalon is composed strictly of witches; the Death Eaters will never suspect that a mere-**man** will soon know the most important secret of my order… furthermore by keeping my mind empty of **all** the gritty little details … making me a decoy target so to speak …will safeguard you even more."

"Hey, you forgot about me, I heard everything you just said," Neville said clearly irritated.

"My nephew will need someone who knows the fundamentals to guard his back from our Black-haired, mystery woman. But remember this; - in spite of your past history with the lady - I warn you both - do not trust Granger, and that goes double for you Mr. Longbottom. Don't let the memory of how she behaved as a teenager at Hogwarts cloud your judgment now. She's a barrister after all and that-lot cares nothing for justice or right-or-wrong, all they fancy is winning, nothing else matters to them. I am convinced that Miss Mudge hired Granger specifically to get you both to lower your guard."

Knowing instinctively that his aunt was most likely correct - Ron bit back his tongue, fighting down the automatic urge to refuse this assignment. After-all as an semi-indentured servant he couldn't refuse.

"So with Millie acting as my bodyguard on the outside and all of the other individuals in my employ kept 'out of the loop' concerning any discoveries you should make. What any spy on the estate might learn - - will be useless if revealed to others."

"I also insist that you keep to yourself as much of this experiment as practical. Granger has most likely been included in this project to loosen your tongue, Ronald - - do not yield to that temptation. Each of the other members of this project has their own expertise to add, but there is no reason for anyone **but you**; nephew, to know all aspects of the project."

"You know I still have a weak-spot when it comes to her, - a weakness Ms. Mudge clearly intends to exploit," Ron admitted in candid honesty. "In light of this fact - I really think I'm the wrong bloke for this job."

"Ronald, it has to be you …this project is too time-sensitive to bring in a total outsider. You're known for your ability to think on your feet, you proved that every time you play chess and especially while working for me. Of all the projects that require 'out of the box' thinking this one takes the cake. That makes you prefect for this position."

"It's been clear to my order and the current Prioress for some time that both the Avalon and Charlemagne covens have been infiltrated by spies. For security reasons alone - we have decided to go outside of our gender for someone to see this job done."

Ron and Neville nodded their heads in reluctant understanding.

"Next item, I do not want to hear of you **biting off** the head of any member of your team for the minor-crime of saying Grangers first name –ever again. You have done it to Mr. Thomas several times in my hearing - and most likely Mr. Longbottom as well."

"I'm sorry Milady, my temper - -" Ron said apologetically.

"- - which is perfectly under control most of the time – you are an easy-natured man most of the time. But lately - -"

"- - I don't mind Milady," Neville interrupted shyly. "Ron doesn't mean anything by it. I see red myself when someone says Hannah's name. It's a knee jerk reaction we blokes have to someone who hurts us extra deeply. Grangers first name is Ron's **hot button**, add to that he's wore down to frazzle - -"

"- - and you don't think I know that my nephew is overworked and burned-out?" Muriel asked cocking an eyebrow in an exasperated fashion. "I do not deny that I took advantage of my nephews desire to help you to keep him in my service - for estate management is his true calling. Millicent has told me for months that my nephew is at the end of his line. Had this project not come up - I was going to order my chief steward on a year-long world tour vacation at my expense".

"You knew about that?" Ron said sheepishly sounding gob-smacked.

"I didn't personally, but Millicent did," Muriel said with a smug smile.

"You've been skunked again, Ron" Neville said to his friend with a smile – which Ron reluctantly returned.

"I've taken the liberty to have the wards surround the Greenhouses and Gatehouse upgraded to the same level of those surrounding the unspeakable department of magical experimentation at the Ministry. There are also strong anti-apparition wards in place which makes the place virtually impregnable."

"So you're locking us in," Neville said in a resigned tone.

"Yes Mr. Longbottom, I'm sorry that such measures are necessary. My personal legal firm will be taking on your divorce proceedings against the former Ms. Abbott at no cost to you... and as you pose the least security risk - as just the cultivator of the plant …being Ronald's second in command - that makes you the logical choice to be the only one to go in or out of the Gatehouse compound to make **non-detailed **progress reports to me and the appointed Charlemagne representative."

"So there will be a Charlemagne representative involved in this project," Ron asked.

"Yes the leader of my order contacted the Charlemagne coven as soon as their** Livery Collar** came into my procession."

"This goes way beyond the terms of my indenture as a gardener; Lady Prewett," Neville pointed out.

"I understand that fully, Mr. Longbottom. However, - each of the non-Prewett employees, or sub-contractors if you prefer that term… involved in this project will be compensated for their efforts beyond the dreams of Midas. Each being paid in the coin of their choosing," Muriel said in a drolly tone. "For you; may I assume that your price might involve an immediate end to your current indenture and say …a twenty-thousand galleon grub-stake; to restart your life somewhere outside of magical England?"

"Why would I want to leave England?"

"I just assumed that you'd want to live far from the cucky-shame that your Hannah has stained you with," Muriel retorted casually. Staying in the UK after her affair with young master Creevey; you must agree is… unthinkable."

"Yes, that's true enough, with Gran dead, I have no close family left," Neville said thinking out loud. "I had intended to test the waters again in a few years and… "

"I regret to say this, but our magical community is rather minuscule in comparison to its Muggle counterpart. A ruined reputation such as yours, - publicly cuckolded by a cougar spouse is in most cases already known by every member of such a small group of witches and wizards as ours …and is therefore beyond redemption."

"Take Ronald, it's been seven years now and even now the 'brother interview' is still rubbed in his face by strangers he meets in pubs. He is more known for being called Granger's non blood sibling - than his association with the _**Golden duo**_ of Granger and Potter."

"Another prime example of this small community mindset is the Malfoy family. That bloodline will always be tainted with their association with the Death Eaters and a thousand life times of penitence could not hope to erase the blemish that Lucius imposed on his family name. It's a pity that a once proud and noble bloodline is now lost forever - with the wartime murder of all the males of that house."

"I hope you don't mind if I don't weep with remorse," Ron said with a barely concealed sneer. "If Lucius, Draco or his mental-aunt Bellatrix were alive today …all three of them would be a-part of this current scheme to reawaken Voldemort. The evil taint on the Malfoy name is well deserved. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here, I still think putting me and Granger on this team is a mistake, I'll just end up making a fool of myself again.

"Nephew; play the cards you are dealt," Muriel said sternly in a no-nonsense commanding tone.

"As you wish Milady," Ron conceded with reluctance. "However, if we do succeed, how do we-know that any potion we make will actually work. We'll need a test subject, like Merlin had with Sir Gawain."

"Funny you should mention that, Nephew, for as it just so happens, our Black haired potion-mistress/coconspirator Miss Rebecca Elson Mudge… dug-up three so-called war-heroes for us to test the potion on."

"Did she now?" Neville asked horrified and disgusted at the very though.

"Yes, cold blooded and cunning …that one," Muriel interjected with concern.

"I like her less and less the more I learn about her. Can't we get someone else?" Ron asked.

"Regretfully no, I gave my oath," Muriel retorted. "Your potion-mistress is …almost deranged in her obsession to see this done. There is a desperation surrounding the girl, a hidden motivation that goes way-beyond mere gold. She casually told me that her first choice for test subject would have fallen on your brother Fred. However, she had to abandon that idea when she learned of the Weasley custom to cremate their dead and scatter the ashes to the four winds."

"She knows which buttons to push on you Ron and I can't help but think that her extensive knowledge of you indicates careful pre-planning." Neville said in a worried tone.

"Who in bloody- hell is this woman?" Ron snarled.

"Mudge speaks nearly flawless English, but with a tiny accent that is both aristocratic and I suspect Eastern European in origin. Her wand and luggage was made in South America, her designer clothing is from, New York, Paris and Milan. The Ministry has nothing on the 'Mudge' name – nor does Wizarding Interpol - which I fully suspect is an alias."

"This is getting better and better. And so I'm stuck working with a mystery woman who knows loads about us …while we don't know squat about her."

"That's about it. Yes."

"Who were these test subjects, did she give any names?"

"No, but she did swear on her magic that two of the three lost their lives for Harry Potter sake."

"This has got to be the mother of all set-up's," Ron lamented.

OoOoOoOo

**End trans – for now **


	5. Chapter 5

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers **

Chapter 5; entitled: **Meet the ladies**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 4,899 more or less

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**An**: the advantage of having no readers is that there is no presure to publish at regular intervals - so here another one this week. enjoy and review.

OoOoOoOo

**Roll film**

OoOoOoOo

"I'm sorry Nephew, but our hands in this project are tied. Always keep that in mind that Barristers' loyalty is for rent, and if Granger is true to her profession …then the only interest she really serves in this affair are Ms. Mudge, her client - or - her own. It was Rebecca that insisted that Granger be a-part of this… She was already on the team of this open-ended project before I could offer her a single Knut. Granger's total compensation in this affair comes strictly from Ms. Rebecca Elson Mudge … not me – remember that."

"The Granger I remember isn't the sort too - -"

"- - It's been seven years Ronald," Muriel interjected quickly. "A person can change a-lot in that amount of time, lord knows you have. Motivation and desires can certainly alter. Being a barrister is all about glory and self-promotion over what's right-or-wrong. Victory in court is far more important than justice."

"I am very much afraid that the sin of vanity and self-centered pride is something both your former camping trip friends still suffer from. I've read the already published unauthorized histories on the National hero and heroin – the so-called _**Golden Duo**_ – and beyond the fact that your part in the war has been completely written out of most histories – I find it extremely enlightening that neither Granger or Potter have made a serious effort to correct the world press erroneous belief …that right-up to Voldemort's death – the Golden Duo wasn't in actually a **trio**."

"I don't really mind – considering what National fame has done to both of them." Ron said not sounding the least bit envious

"Your old friends have been written about as demi-gods of perfection and put up on pedestals to be worshiped by the general public – and apparently neither seems the least-bit interested in stepping down from those pedestals."

"Oh - Jolly-good for them," Ron said with clear contempt. "I luckily was cured of the need for fame during my fourth year. I for one… actually savor the freedoms to be had in public obscurity. I'm not mobbed by the paparazzi wherever I go, I don't live life under a micro-scope… for me - fame comes at too high a price for my comfort."

"Stop acting as if you don't care about being written out of history; nephew – for I know better," Muriel said sternly. "When you asked your old best-mate for a loan to save a dorm mate from prison," Muriel said, "and found out… fist hand – that Mr. Potter is more concerned with his public image than any loyalty to a comrade during the war. Don't try to tell me that Potters insensitivity for the plight of old-school chums didn't hurt you deeply." Once again; I warn you against expecting Granger to behave any better than Potter has."

"Bloody-hell – she can't have gone that corrupt so soon."

"Think of this as the ultimate chess game, fate has given you Neville to guard your back, so put your faith in him alone. Trust no-one else… even Millie and I; - remember the imperious curse can make even your best friend betray you."

"Ruddy Marvelous," Ron snorted in a frustrated tone.

"Upgrading wards can't be done instantly, Milady," Neville pointed out insightfully. "How long have Granger and Mudge been here on the estate?"

"Good question. I was first contacted by Ms. Mudge with her most unusual offer by owl-post within twenty-four hours of Ron's departure for **Aachen."**

"But that was six days ago?" Ron countered.

"Ms. Mudge and Granger set out their conditions at first contact – They heard my counteroffer the next day – we agreed to conduct the 'experiment' here on the Prewett estate at that time. The two of them arrived on the estate three days ago and turned over to me the contents of the **Charlemagne Livery Collar**."

"Hold-on, you mean the bud you gave me the other day was…" Neville began before being interrupted.

"… The Lazarus plant, yes Neville as were the three seeds I gave you. How is that going …by the way?" Muriel asked fighting back a smile at Neville's expression of shock. It took a moment for the botanist to regain his composure before he replied.

"I used a growth accelerator spell to speed the four plants to full maturity… as you asked Milady," Neville stuttered, still somewhat gob-smacked. "But no flowers buds have appeared. The plant has produced several seed pods which indicate …at least to me, - that this plant does not ever flower."

"I then opened one of the seed pods – removed the seeds and duplicated the growth accelerator procedure on a second 'control group;' of eight additional plants which I have set up in different locations."

"So at present there are twelve Lazarus plants under cultivation," Muriel asked

"Yes Milady, but as I already stated – none of the twelve have shown any signs of flowering." Neville replied.

"I thought as much", Muriel said in a satisfied tone. "The Avalon coven has occasionally over the centuries attempted to recreate the _**Ambrosius's flowers**_; utilizing the best botanist-Herbologist available at the time… with the same results you've encountered. I'm sure the Death Eaters in-spite of their head-start; have gotten no further than you. Merlin clearly did something magically to the plant. The secret is hidden in the encrypted instructions."

"Have the instructions themselves - been de-coded before?" Ron asked

"NO?"

"Then what is the rush? You don't really need me or Ron right now."

"No, that's not true, Mr. Longbottom. Bringing the plant to maturity is just the first step, the easiest step, your expert skills will be needed later in the process, although how – or when – the instructions puzzle is unraveled – at this point - remains pure conjecture."

"I don't understand, decoding the instructions could take years – if at all?" Neville said clearly confused.

"I really don't think so, not this time – for Avalon has never before faced such evil in a completion to decode the instruction mystery. I see the hand of destiny in this effort," Muriel admitted. "All I can tell you is-that Merlin him-self created the** Livery Collar's **- that has to be significant. On the rim of the golden crystal amulet that makes-up the center-piece of the collar are four different texts in four different languages; post Roman Latin, ancient Britain, Celtic-Anglo and ancient English."

"Unlike the instruction scrolls incased within the crystal center, the old English text on the amulet edge was relatively easy to translate. We assume the other language texts contain the exact same minimum requirements to make the resurrection potion. The old English clearly state that four people are required to be **locked away** to solve the mystery in secrecy, each a master in their specialization, a protector, a translator, a cultivator and a potion master.

"Can I see the original **Charlemagne Livery Collar**?" Neville found himself asking.

"I don't see why not," Muriel said casually while reaching into her desk drawl to remove a thick golden chain of office with a large shattered amulet at its center that she slid across her desk toward the two men. Ron showed no great interest in it but Neville on the other hand …seemed compelled to hold the livery collar in his hands.

"Everything of importance has been either removed or destroyed", Muriel declared with absolute certainty. "It has historic value I suppose, hand-crafted by Merlin and all. So I'll need it back at some point."

"I've ordered two new copies made with only a single space for the resurrection potion that you are tasked to reproduce. I'll need a total of three full doses for the test subjects and six doses of just the third potion - for Arthur, Charlemagne and their knights."

"Can I take it with me, and return it later?" Neville asked all but spellbound as he closely examined the amulet.

"Of course," Muriel said with a casual wave of her hand as she stood-up. "And now that you've been fully briefed… You can be downloaded with all that Avalon knows of the Arthur Legend, Merlin's flowers and all the previous-attempts to decipher the instructions. After that, I'll escort you to the ladies."

"Where are they?" Ron asked, nervous about seeing Hermione again.

"They currently here at the Manor House, for I don't trust either of them out of arms reach," Muriel said in a harsh – no nonsense tone. "However in light of the fact that this project is about to begin. I have taken the liberty, nephew - to commandeer your Gate House for Granger and Mudge as a sort-of ladies dorm. It does-have three bedrooms after all – with the largest - - your former master bedroom converted into a potions lab, while your lounge will serve as Granger's translation center."

Ron bit-back his outrage, although his own 'semi-indentured' contract extension - allowed him to keep his pay-bucket, Gringotts account and even Neville's indenture. His cottage on the estate belonged to his Aunt and he lived in it rent-free …as a courtesy.

"And you have moved my furniture and personal belongings to where?"

"The abandoned loft above the old stables - - off to one side and half way between the Gate house and Neville's Greenhouse cottage, I have also taken the liberty of having the old stable boys quarters in the loft modernize, cleaned and generally made more livable. You'll find the test subjects provided by Ms. Mudge - in three air-tight and magically sealed coffins underneath the loft - in the stalls of the old stables."

"Yes Milady,"

"As I think it prudent to have someone to keep a close eye on those two …witches – I feel that a-pair of my estates house-elves can do that task far more discretely - - and objectively than you could. Besides, if what I heard is true, - once Granger learns that you are the owner of elf slaves, she will attempt to free them – thinking that you wouldn't object."

"Granger should know better than to try that," Ron replied. "Both Dobby and the ill-fated Winky were freed by their 'Lawful' masters. Harry may have provided the sock that freed Dobby, but it was Lucius Malfoy that gave that item of clothing to his elf slave. I am the only one to free my elves."

"Very true nephew, but in all her so-called brilliance behind S.P.E.W., did your Granger ever acknowledge that fact? Muriel asked.

"Good point, I don't actually know," Ron retorted. "So I am to be moved - And Neville; does he stay where he is?"

"Oh Yes. That way Neville can stay close to the twelve **Lazarus** plants, in the number two greenhouse - - which as we speak, will later this afternoon have separate wards installed, that-will _**keep-out**_ both Granger and Mudge. I insist that the translation attempt and the potion lab be kept separate, - location wise - from the Lazarus plants."

"Milady, I cannot help but notice that the way you have set up the living arrangements – for this project - you have put all your 'rotten eggs in one basket. This bespeaks a level of distrust – that - - -"

"- - Spot-on nephew;" Muriel interrupted sternly. "Separating as much as possible you and your botanist confederate from… these plotting witches - will hopefully blunt Ms. Mudge scheme to use Granger as a distraction - by pulling on your broken heartstrings."

"Good thinking Milady."

OoOoOoOo

Ron lay unconscious for twenty-five minutes as his mind absorbed the several hundreds of years' worth of research and experimentation on the **resurrection potion** by the witches of Avalon. The silvery thread memory had been injected directly into Ron's mind through his temple instead of being viewed through a pensive.

As a point of reference – or to say - in Muggle terms – in mere moments Ron had undergone the equivalent of four years at university – and the completion of both a Master's and Doctorate degree program - which made the historically overlooked Prewett estate Chief Steward; the secret and undisputed expert on the Arthur legend and all things Merlin related. Instantaneously – Ron became fluent in several ancient and modern languages and knew more about the time frame dating from the Roman occupation of Britain up to the Norman Conquest than anyone else on earth.

It was a lot to take in, and when Ron finally opened his eyes he had a massive head ache and felt so sick to his stomach he had to fight the urge to vomit. Half an hour later and weak as a new-born puppy, Ron had to be physically assisted by Neville down the hallway toward the Prewett manor library where the 'ladies' were said to have barricaded themselves.

Even before Lady Prewett opened the door, she heard the muffled angry diatribe of a very familiar sounding bookworm. Shaking her head sadly - Muriel entered her massive library, with Neville half supporting …half dragging, an overly pale and somewhat green faced Ron up from the side.

Once inside the library proper, Neville immediately directed Ron into a chair near the door, before he and Lady Muriel moved further into the room. At the far end of the huge library stood five extra-large – free standing chalk boards - filled from top to bottom with the current attempt to translate the markings on the outside of Charlemagne livery collar and the instruction therein as written in Merlin's own hand.

Hermione was to wrapped-up in her angry rant concerning the impossibility of her task - to notice Muriel and Neville's approach. Her sole companion in the room, Rebecca Mudge – was sitting off to one side - as her hired translator paced back and forth spouting her frustrated diatribe. Paying Hermione no heed, Ms. Mudge calmly sat - trying to read a book.

As Neville approached the pair of young women he was struck first by the huge difference in appearance between Hermione and Ms. Mudge. It was like comparing day to night, or more properly the difference between a female who went out of her way to downplay her gender as compared to a woman who revealed in the understated power of her abundant sexuality – while avoiding crossing the line into the realm of cheap bimbo.

Neville couldn't help smiling at the comparison, as he asked himself why he hadn't noticed this before. For apparently Hermione over the years had actually increased ever so gradually - her efforts to minimize her femininity. Her dress for success pants-suit concealed whatever curves her body ever had - and her cropped closed to the head 'butch' hair style and total lack of make-up or even ear-rings …all but screamed masculine asexuality. Neville's friend from Hogwarts had always put little stock in her looks, but apparently over time - Hermione phobia of being taken seriously as a intellect and equal to any man - rather than as a woman had reached its ultimate extreme.

Hermione had worked for Neville as a barrister several times in the last year, and yet due to his long history with the smartest witch of their age - he had unconsciously overlooked the ever increasing efforts she had made to downplay her gender. He wasn't sure if this was a deliberate tactic or just a half hearted attempt to minimize the fashion paparazzi interest in her. Although Neville had to concede that he couldn't actually remember the last time Hermione had graced the pages of Witch Weekly. In fact it wasn't until he was confronted with the painfully obvious contrast between Hermione and Ms. Mudge that Neville realized how far his friend had gone to run away from being a woman.

Shaking his head sadly, Neville turned his full attention onto the infamous Ms. Mudge and for the life of him – Neville couldn't understand why Milady Prewett distrusted this petite raven haired woman so intently. She had a stunningly beautiful face and sat reading her book wearing a short and yet not mini-skirt length loose pleated dress, which had a matching military-style shell-jacket – all the current rage fashion-wise - that half covered a halter-top with a v-front that that displayed a modest glimpse of cleavage. What little of Ms. Mudge bare flesh he saw was usually pale and Neville suspected that her lack of Tanning salon skin-tone; indicated a delicate complexion that couldn't tolerate the sun.

Again Neville shook his head – but this time to clear it. If his bitter experience with Luna and most recently Hannah - the former romantic flames of his existence - had taught Neville anything – it was that when it came to judging character – especially women - he was as utterly clueless as his savior from prison – Ron Weasley. At this point …with the all-important first impressions now behind him, Neville tried to focus more on listening to Hermione's rant.

"- - Are you even listening to me, Rebecca? I tell you translating this prattle is a hopeless task. I'm a barrister, ask-me to research an obscure point of law and I can do it for you - in a heartbeat, but this – is **not** my field. They didn't offer foreign languages at Hogwarts and for good reason. A simple spell is all that is required to become fluent in modern French or German. The only somewhat Ancient language I am familiar with is legal Latin, and even that is a totally different dialect than what was used in Post Roman Britain.

"Don't fuss so, Hermione, you're doing fine," Rebecca said calmly without looking up from her book. "You have all the research materials you need in this library to translate this stuff - -"

"- - No I don't …quiet obviously. My so-called translations of even the text on the outside of the livery collar - does not make any sense. As for the instructions themselves – it's pure gibberish. I told you that you need a trained linguist – not me - someone who is an expert on ancient dialects, spelling and sentence structure. None of which I ever had the slightest interest in."

"And as I have **already** pointed out - more than once," Rebecca replied; her patience now sounding a-bit strained, "there are no living experts in the _**magical world**_ on the dead languages of Merlin's time - and the Muggle experts I consulted - have zero experience with the subtle differences in nuance between post Roman magical Celtic as a language - and the more popular Muggle variation. Even magical old-English has a different shade and structure. Your friend Potter assured me that you were – without question – the best researcher he knew – are you telling me that this countries National Hero is wrong about the smartest witch in Europe?"

"No-no, I'm the best there is, at most things - -" Hermione qualified …now standing right in front of where Rebecca sat. Suddenly however there was a pause in the conversation, as she was distracted by the sound of chalk flying across a chalkboard. Spinning about - Hermione beheld with gob-smacked surprise - a still very weak and green complexioned; Ron, correcting her …'homework'.

"This is so wrong" Ron mumbled – more to himself than to anyone else - as her crossed-out Hermione's translation of the ancient Celtic phrase above it - and wrote in the corrected version underneath.

Muriel and Neville had been so absorbed listening to Hermione's rant they hadn't noticed or heard Ron get up from his seat and come over and correct the chalk-board with post-roman magical Latin on it. That finished - Ron was now re-doing Hermione's translation of the Celtic chalkboard.

Hermione's state of shock only lasted an instant - but before she could direct her fury at Ron for ruining thirty hours of hard-work, she instinctively looked at his correction of her Latin and found to her even greater surprise - that it now… finally, made grammatical sense.

Her eyes went as wide as Ping-Pong balls as an event unimaginable played out before her. What was happening was wrong on so many levels – it rated as yet another sign of the end of the world. It was a given, plain and simple - like the sun rising in the east - - that in purely academic or intellectual pursuits, such as translating ancient runes. Ron Weasley was no match for the smartest witch in the UK.

Wizard chess being the sole exception and after all these years Hermione had convinced herself that even those victories were due to some sly underhand trick. Otherwise Hermione was Ron's clear superior in everything that really mattered - even Harry agreed with her on that point. What was being a simple-minded caretaker for a few farms in comparison to winning cases in the high court of the Wizengamot? What was the value of knowing how to tell an amusing story to put his friends at ease during a tense moment - compared to winning an argument over an obscure point of law?

And yet at that moment, all of Hermione's smug conceit build up over years of hard work - came crashing down as she watched the allegedly; 'simple-minded' Ron solve a translation problem that had stumped her. She finally got her feet to move, and she crossed the room to put a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder as he finished redoing Hermione's failed attempt to make sense of the old English.

Feeling her touch, Ron slowly turned around to face his old flame - looking a bit green and swaying slightly where he stood.

"Ron – how?, - she asked, unable to keep the tone of amazement out of her voice.

"Always the same tone of surprise when I do my **own** homework – eh? Ron mumbled weakly - - half to himself before speaking louder. "Get that stunned look off your face Granger; I'm not a poly-juice imposture. You can't honestly believe that yours is the first attempt to solve this particular puzzle since Merlin's time?"

"Of course not Ronald," Hermione replied sounding irritated.

"The marking on the outside of the livery collar have been translated literally a thousand times - if not more. With me no more intelligent than a trained Mimic, repeating the work of all those that went before you," Ron said as he reached out to grasps the back of a nearby chair to keep himself from falling down. "You are not here to waste-time on translating things that have been done hundreds of times before you were even born. This project is time sensitive; we have dangerous competitors in a race where there is no prize for second place.

"I know full-well why I'm here Ronald Bilius and I wasn't **wasting time** - the decode key to the instructions is most likely hidden with the marking on the outside of the livery collar." Hermione began to argue - becoming angrier with every word spoken.

From that moment onward - Ron and Hermione became obvious to the others in the library. And Neville standing off to one side, began to smile – big.

"Shouldn't we stop this," Ms. Mudge asked walking up to Neville and Lady Prewett.

"Oh heavens no," Neville replied before Milady could interfere. "It's been so many years, I'd forgotten about this."

"Forgotten about what Mr. Longbottom?"

"When you first told me that Hermione would be a-part of this project - I feared the worst, for as Ron said himself - he has a major 'problem' with his non-blood related sister. She is his weakness, but at the same time she is also his greatest strength. That's the part of their old Hogwarts relationship I had forgotten about until …just now.

"I don't understand Mr. Longbottom?" Muriel said sounding confused – "all they are doing is arguing."

"Nor do I? - - They are rowing over the translation, how does that help us?" Ms. Mudge interjected.

"That's it exactly, - they are fighting over what is the best translation," Neville declared now all but beaming with delight. – "Between them and without being consciously aware of what they are doing - they will drag every possible tiny nuance out of the markings. If Hermione is right and the decoding key is buried in the outer markings – those two will row their way to finding it. Its Hogwarts history repeating itself – Granger would make a plan of action for the trio – Harry would agree automatically without thinking about it - - but Ron would instantly start to pick holes in it – as in - why it wouldn't work. Hermione would then fix the holes and - -"

"- - when Ron couldn't find any more flaws – Sweet Merlin - no wonder they won all the time." Ms. Mudge said in way of a sudden epiphany. "Potter and Granger would get the lion's share of the credit – with everyone thinking that Ron was just the court jester – kept around to make the great Hero and Heroine laugh."

"Don't feel bad – there were loads of Gryffindor's that didn't realize the real significance of the Ron – Hermione rows. I doubt Granger on any level accepts this truth either. She has to be the one and only **best** at everything – and with that kind of conceit driving her - - she is not the type to concede flaws in her logic – or – to share credit. – whereas Harry didn't really want credit for anything – but got it irregardless."

"Why didn't I see it before, the classic argument between the theoretical and the practical?" Rebecca bemoaned sounding very upset with herself. "But how do you know this?"

"Plants are not my only passion, my other hobby is people watching" Neville replied with a sad sigh. "It's like they say – those that suck at relationships can only stand at the side-lines and watch the mating rituals of others. I have made a pastime of watching Ron and Hermione, since fourth year, when I realized that Ron was hopelessly in love with a girl that considered him no better than a low grade moron that needed a luck potion to do anything right."

"A terrible abuse of extra-rare romantic devotion," Rebecca conceeded semi-casually while moving in closer to Neville – whose full attention along with Milady Prewett, was on the now hotly arguing couple across the room.

Naturally, the magical botanist did not notice the increase in the rate of Rebecca's breathing, the dilated pupils or the flared nostrils. In fact it was only when Ms. Mudge realized that she was standing so close to Neville that she could have reached into his trouser pocket without moving her arm – it was _**only then**_, that she whispered ever so softly.

"Oh shite," and backed off to retake control of her usually strong arousal – for a Longbottom of all people.

"What's wrong with me, he's not my type at all."

OoOoOoOo

**End trans …for now**


	6. Chapter 6

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers **

Chapter 6; entitled: **The plot thickens**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 2,899

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

OoOoOoOo

Ten paces to the kitchen door of Gate-house cottage. Ten paces away – and that was when first began to hear the sounds of a heated argument coming from within. Shaking his head at the irony of the situation, Neville opened the side door into the kitchen, his hope to get a cuppa of tea and a biscuit from one of the house-elves assigned to the ladies. He was surprised to see Ms. Mudge calmly sitting at the kitchen table sipping her tea while trying to read the same book as yesterday.

Neville had told him-self a dozen times not to talk to the mysterious witch that Milady Prewett distrusted so intensely. But the moment he saw what had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he just had to say something.

"How long have they been at-it?"

"Since seven this morning, killing all my hopes for a-bit of a 'lie-in'."

"Too much noise to sleep-in. oh that's a shame." He said as a joke as he normally was up with the sun.

"Well think-on-it, I don't have anything else to do until they translate that bloody thing." Rebecca said clearly bored. She was dressed casually today – jeans, jumper, sandals and dress shirt blouse and yet to Neville she was a living fashion-plate off the cover of _**Witch-Weekly**_ magazine. Drawn in by her understated beauty like a moth to a flame, he pulled out a chair and unconsciously sat down next to her – far closer than he had ever sat next to a woman he didn't really know well.

"Are they making any progress?" he asked.

"Not really, every time Weasley demands that they concentrate on the actual instructions, Granger counters with an argument on his translation of the old Celtic," she replied.

"And they are shouting over that?"

"Oh no – Weasley tries repeatedly to be reasonable and speak in normal conversational volumes," Rebecca said as she put her book down and smiled up at Neville. "But the moment he does – she brings up the 'he's like a brother to me' interview and - -"

"BLAM – his temper explodes," Neville said grinning big.

"Exactly"

"But why?" - Neville asked sounding genuinely confused. "Does she get some perverse thrill – kicking him in the stones? Rubbing in his face how she will never see him as - -"

"- - **Attractive**, - - that's just it; she's been strongly denying that she sees him as a brotherly figure – all mourning." Rebecca said while leaning closer.

"What – I don't believe that for a second. Why; just a month ago - just out-side of the High Justices chambers… she didn't deny the 'brother bit'."

"Denied saying it – or – denied she still felt that way?"

"Granger is never wrong; in her worldview she doesn't make mistakes - once her mind is made-up - -"

"- - Even God changed his mind; otherwise there wouldn't have been a need for the Great flood. If the maker of all things had to start over with fallible mankind – why is wanting a second-chance romantically with Weasley - so unthinkable for Granger?"

"The Goddess Granger is not fallible like a normal human-being. She is the arrogant National heroine – she thinks she walks on water, while standing atop the pedestal of perfection right next to the demi-god Potter - -"

"It was Wizarding press-whores and a cart-load of self-loving …witch feminists - and the totally-inaccurate self-proclaimed historians… that put her up on that bloody pedestal," Rebecca pointed out in a deeply irritated tone. "You can't think that she likes living in the same kind of fishbowl that Potter does? Not when she knows that there are cows like Rita Skeeter spending every moment of every day looking for ways to tear her down from that ruddy pedestal. She can't even get out of her Muggle dads automobile wearing a dress - without some wizard trying to photograph her knickers."

"I didn't realize that you and Hermione were such close friends?" Neville said more than a little surprised at Rebecca's sudden heated passion.

"We aren't, I barely know her – personally," Rebecca said not realizing that she had let her guard down. "It's just that I had an older brother; well half-brother actually as we had the same Mum but different dads. He was my favorite relative and my mentor growing-up. We spent summers together – we were close – you know?"

"I envy you really – I was an only child," Neville admitted sadly.

"Anyway – my brother got famous for a-bit, but the pressure of being a celebrity sports-jock got to him, he got hooked on performance drugs – to wake him up …and let him sleep. Skeeter broke the story about his addition, - he lost everything and committed suicide - **after** he was dragged down from the same kind of pedestal that your Granger is on now."

"I'm sorry about your half-brother," Neville said and Rebecca looked at him sharply and realized that the botanist was actually being sincere – that it clearly wasn't the same kind of chat-up line, like all the other times she had spoken about her brother - to a randy stereotypical male. The honest look of concern unnerved her so much – she without thinking about what she was doing - revealed even more of her private feelings.

"I never got over my brother's death, and it was fame and those damn paparazzi sharks that made him a celebrity - then turned on him – and killed him. Granger is a real smart barrister and so far - she has won all her high-publicity cases, but the moment she loses a big-one, **just wait.** The sharks will start to circle - sensing blood in the water, they will tear her apart – for there is nothing the public likes more than to watch the mighty fall. It is far easier to criticize a writer's prose than risk taking up the quill your-self.

"I had no idea," Neville confessed softly.

"Few do," Rebecca said sadly. "Look at me, Neville," and off course he did. "I'm beautiful but I didn't work years to become the way I am now - like Granger became smart by studying so hard. Men put me up on a pedestal and when they look at me all they see is a sex object. A brainless piece of meat, they don't care to ask my option, for why would a pretty little thing like me - need to think. Giver Granger a chance, living on a pedestal is a lonely existence. I know that all too well."

"I'm not the one who needs convincing about Granger."

"Well to tell you the truth," Rebecca said leaning toward Neville in a conspiratorial whisper, "after what you said yesterday about their problem solving arguments. I have been listening far more closely to _**what they say**_ rather than in the volume they shout it."

"And?"

"He is listening to her,"

"And that surprises you?" Neville asked.

"Usually when I start yelling as loud as they are now, I've already lost all flexibility in my thinking, I've reached the - I'm right and he's an asshole - stage. As loud as they are and as mad as they sound, - he is still being flexible, he is still listening to what she says and reacting to it positively. His counters are concept based rather than personal attacks."

"That's not unusual for him, as I recall," Neville said thinking it over carefully. "In all the Hogwarts arguments that I was witness to, Ron rarely went in for personal attacks. He had an absolutely huge jealousy streak about any male that spoke to Granger, but other than the famous 'Viktor' **anger button** he - -"

"- - Oh I know all about his Krum weak spot," Rebecca interjected with an odd knowing sad smile on her face.

"You really did your homework on all of us. How long have you been planning this?" Neville said sounding suspicious.

"You don't really think that I just happened on Hans - so why should I pretend otherwise," Rebecca said.

"Did you kill him?"

"**No**, he really was fatally wounded when I found him; I really did take him to hospital in hopes of saving his life. However, the wounds he received fighting his way through the Death Eaters attacking the castle were too serious to be magically reversed."

"Hans didn't tell you the Merlin myth, did he?"

"No, I already knew about it."

"Then how did you - -"

"Are you sure you want to know – you're not going to like my answer." Rebecca said looking slightly nervous.

"Yes I want to know," Neville said while reaching for his wand under the table.

"Well then, to help you understand, why I know so much – I think I should tell you the identity of the test subjects that I brought with me."

"The three coffins in the stables. How will that help me?"

"Two of them were close friends of Harry Potter when they were alive. My thinking at the time was - that Harry would be named '**protector'** on this project - it would be my leverage to make him help me get this done."

"You dug up James and Lily Potter?"

"_**I tried**_, but the pure-blood Potters - like the Weasley family, were traditional advocates of cremation after death," Rebecca said with disappointed regret.

"And the resurrection potion needs at least intact bones of the deceased," Neville interjected.

"Exactly, so I had to find test subjects that were at least; extra-close …friends of Potter, people known to Granger as well, - to be my incentive to motivate Potter and Grangers best efforts.

"So who did you dig-up?" Neville asked sounding more intrigued than angry.

"Remus and Nymphadora Lupin," Rebecca replied casually. "Remus had no family and Andromeda in respect of her murdered husband Ted Tonks – who was him-self a Muggleborn, - and believed strongly in the Muggle burial traditions – meaning - that Remus and Nymphadora were buried with their bodies intact."

"So you expected Harry to be in charge here instead of Ron?"

"Oh-my…Yes – and why shouldn't it be that way. I thought the _**Golden Duo**_ would jump at the chance to reunite for another shot at super Hero fame. After-all it's been seven years since Voldemort's fall - and average folk are beginning to wonder what their two National heroes have done for them lately."

"But Milady wants this done in secret, and bringing in Potter would make this a media circus," Neville protested, - "otherwise the DE will keep attacking the Avalon or the Charlemagne covens - until they get ahold-of Merlin's resurrection potion."

"I was wrong about who would be put in charge, - okay? With Potter involved he'd drag the entire Ministry into this… and I was counting on that. I had envisioned an entire army of Auror's surrounding our little compound – protecting us from the DE _**revenge**_ attack that is bound to come."

"Revenge – what do the DE have to avenge?"

"Betrayal - by one of their own,"

"Meaning you?"

"Yes,"

"You were a-part of the attack on the castle at '_**Odo de Metz**_' near **Aachen**."

"Not directly – I was recruited as potion mistress to make Merlin's resurrection potion for them. Their leader didn't want me risked doing any actual fighting - so I was positioned to prevent anyone from escaping by a remote side-road. I caught sight of the injured warden coming out of the castle's bolt-hole and followed him.

"Bolt hole?" Neville asked sounding puzzled.

"All castles have an escape tunnel that is used to get the lords family out in case the '_**Keep**_' falls during a siege. In England such escape tunnels are called bolt holes.

"You didn't, - -"

"Hex or kill Hans, - no Neville; I make potions not war," Rebecca said with a resigned smile. "In fact I'm horrible with a wand. With my looks blokes are eager to do any magic I needed done. But in the end - - I did steal from the DE the second livery collar they wanted. The last vial had already been smashed when I caught up with Hans. But as the DE leader already knew in advance that I had my own personal-agenda for this project - that didn't match their group's plans. I knew she wouldn't believe I hadn't stolen the last vial for my own use."

"So just a few steps ahead of a Death Eater assassin, you came to England - to do what exactly?" Neville said not sounding at all angry at her, for which she was immensely grateful.

"Seek out the other side, of course - - the Avalon witches, I knew their collar had been stolen and had overheard some of my DE comrades talking about who they knew were members of the Avalon coven."

"You are a Death Eater?" Neville said pushing his chair away from Rebecca."

"Don't act naive - when evil come to recruit you – saying no - is just a quick way to get yourself killed," she said exasperated.

"How can you be one of them and claim that your agenda now matches Milady?"

"I became a DE at wand point, and yes I know that loads of people have claimed that and - 'lied' their heads off. The difference with me is I will not deny to you here and now - - that when I joined the DE …their goal for the resurrection potion to make it a reality …somewhat paralleled my own agenda."

"Neville I don't have to tell you any of this and to be absolutely honest - had the white-blonde… haired ...head-witch of the resurrected DE movement allowed me to choose the test subjects - I'd still be with them – in perfect lockstep," Rebecca said candidly. "However, the DE wouldn't let me pick the - - they wanted Bellatrix as the sole test subject, - okay?"

"And that was the deal breaker?" Neville asked sounding a little confused.

"Understand this; Neville - I don't care a rat's arse whether or not - Milady Prewett brings back the whole frigen-world from the dead. Arthur Pendragon, Charlemagne, Dumbledore, or the Queen Mum… it's all the same to me - as long as – I get too - -"

"- - Bring back your brother, I've figured that on my own… thanks," Neville said in a sudden epiphany as well as sounding deeply disappointed in the young woman before him. "The whole world can go to hell – thousands of innocents get murdered – the war start anew – just to bring back you half-brother from the underworld," Neville said as he got-up from the table feeling utterly disgusted.

"Yeah – that's right," Rebecca said in a tone as cold steel.

"You are a piece of work – beautiful and poisonous like some of the flowers I work with. So tell me, if you don't mind - the name of this half-brother of yours, the bloke for whom you are fully prepared to sacrifice countless thousands of women and children – just so that he may live?"

Rebecca replied in a monotone – feeling ashamed of what she had set out to do – but she had gone too far to turn back now. "The Lupin's was my bait to ensnarl Potter - Granger on the other hand literally jumped in eagerness at the chance to help me - the moment I told her the true name of my three year dead bother.

"And that name is?"

"Viktor Hugo Krum,"

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**End Trans – for now.**


	7. Chapter 7

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers **

Chapter 7; entitled:

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 2,626

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**here is another chapter enjoy and review**

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Neville stared at Rebecca utterly gob-smacked. He didn't know what to say or think. Milady's warning not to trust the witches had proven correct. But then again – the warning not to trust anyone - possibly extended now to lady Prewett as well. If she knew her nephew half as well as Neville assumed she did – then Muriel had to know of Ron's 'Krum' hot button. So by deliberately putting Hermione and Krum in the same room with Ron was - -

"Dose Milady 'know' - the identity of your three test subjects?"

"Yes, she couldn't refuse my choice, but yes she knows – she just didn't want any last-war DE brought back from the dead."

"Did she try to get Potter as project leader – like you wanted?" Neville asked as he stepped away from the table - his tone accusatory.

"No, it was like you said, Milady feared a media circus and too many people already know that the resurrection potions existed. But when Milady turned us down on Potter - - Granger assured me that she knew how get Ron to fully cooperate."

"Any underhanded trick is ethical in a courtroom as long as you get the verdict you want." Neville said, thinking out loud – "this whole reconcile romantically… shouting match - is just a-huge bit of manipulation, a legal-like ploy to get Ron to hang himself."

"I hadn't thought of that, it sounded so genuine to me - but now that you mention it- -"

"It is a possibility," Neville said getting madder every moment. "How well did your brother know Hermione – in the **biblical** sense – I mean?"

"There aren't any photos of them together in public – not an easy thing to accomplish as I remember it," Rebecca said thinking hard. "But they were engaged a couple of times, during the years before Viktor's committed suicide – so of course I would assume they '_**got physical**_' at some point. None of the engagements lasted long – much to Viktor's great regret …and she broke it off both times, well short of any wedding."

"Engaged" – Neville said his outrage only increasing.

"You didn't buy into the 'pen-pal' hoax – did you? "Potter knew better and told me so just a few days ago. That total fabrication was designed to placate Weasley's notorious fits of jealousy. I'll tell you something else - even more damming about the _**Golden Duo**_ – in their treatment of your friend Weasley - - and I'll swear on my magic that it is the truth - **if**- you agree to keep everything I've said so far this mourning a secret from Weasley.

"Why should I."

"What's more important **to you**; - my brother possibly running off with Granger when this is all over, - **or** - the end of your indenture four and a-half years early? I'll even sweeten the deal with twenty thousand galleons - payable once Viktor is back among the living. And all you have to do to earn this pay-bucket is not disturb the naive romantic trickeries – which Granger '**may** or **may-not'** be building in your indenture master's head. For who knows for sure - - maybe you're wrong and Granger is sincere about giving a romance with the 'too trusting for his own good' caretaker - another-go."

"I had already bought Potter with the Lupin's revival before I came here. He has already agreed to go-after with everything in the Ministry - this new DE group now operating here in England. He isn't project leader - but he is a chief Auror and he can do the DE research project a-lot of damage – maybe even stop them cold. That means no resurrection of Voldemort - - which is what you goodie-two-shoes want – **YES?**" Rebecca asked forcefully.

"And all I have to do to earn this payoff," Neville said, "is not tell Ron that Granger's reason for being here has more to do with her first - -"

"- -why don't we call my brother Hermione's first – boyfriend,"

"If they were engaged, I like you - have to assume they have been sexual lovers,"

"Never assume without hard evidence, it's one of the first rules of potion making. I do know as fact - that Viktor asked her hand in marriage a total of five times – each try on the anniversary of the 1994 Yule ball in a time frame roughly from; 1995 to 2000 and that she accepted his proposal twice."

How do I know that you aren't playing; – '**me'** - for the same kind of fool - that Granger is doing with Ron?"

"You really can't know for sure - one way or the other, beyond the fact - that for reasons, I don't really understand my-self, - I don't want you to hate me for what I'm doing for my brother's sake. I'm desperately seeking someone I can trust as a - -"

"Brother Figure – yes I have that effect on a-lot of women," Neville said sadly as a-part of his soul winched at the pain of rejection. This was the moment that he emotionally took a mental step back. '_I should have known better,_' he said to himself '_Birds really have no idea how hurtful it is to a bloke to be called that by a woman. Romantically it is the ultimate kiss-of-death._'

"I never said that about you, so don't you dare put words in my mouth," She said with a snarl of anger. "Ron wasn't Granger's first brotherly figure either, Harry was, but not before - -" Rebecca began before pausing. "Do I have you word – Neville - not to tell the Weasley - -"

"- - tell him what? - That the bloke Ron hates most on earth **is here** – literally right under his nose? Yes you have my word of honor," Neville declared in a solemn tone. "Ron will not learn that tasty tidbit from me - until **after** the potion is made and is about to be tested. As you said your-self …once Viktor is alive again, Grangers real motivations in this affair – will become crystal clear to everyone – especially Ron. It's going to kill him –when he learns the truth - but it would be wrong for me to pre-judge the murder of his soul – before it takes place."

"I guess that promise will have to do," Rebecca said in a resigned tone. "The truth is that even Potter hit on Granger romantically during the War - when his side-kick Weasley wasn't around for some reason. How long Granger and Potter experimented to see if there were any '_**sparks'**_ between them and how far they went physically to test a possible sexual attraction, my brother Viktor wasn't sure – but he she wasn't a virgin at the battle for Hogwarts when Weasley finally got to kiss her."

"And he knew this how?"

"Granger wrote him small novel sized letters; in fact I have seen some of her twenty-foot letters to him. Hermione poured her heart out in those book sized letters. Putting on paper things she could never say in words - - as if her mouth was the outlet for all things business and academic - with her quill - the outlet for her soul. Most of my brother's very-odd courtship of Granger was done in letters."

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"No more Granger, I need a break from you courtroom logic - before I lose it completely." Ron shouted as he burst through the door and into the kitchen proper – with Hermione hot on his heels. "I'm sure you can quote all the legal precedence required to litigate a leopard out of its spots. But my 'childish' feelings as you call them - in this matter; cannot be organized by law. No court injunction on earth can force me into what you call friendship with benifits, - that you wish to be my acquaintance again has been made crystal clear. But as I have pointed-out **repeatedly** – the position of my sister - has been filled"

"For the thousandth time – I do not want to be a sister to you!"

"Very-well then - - the post of spouse is still open – brood mare to my herd - -" Ron retorted furiously as he crossed over to the outer door - - threw it open and stormed out of the gate-house in his long legged stride toward greenhouse number one… - leaving in his wake; a momentarily stunned Hermione, blushing blood red and looking with a wide-eyed – deer in the headlights expression on her face.

"Who said anything about **marriage**" – she said, her loud ranting fading as the steam of her argument leaked out of her like a boiler with a hole punched in it. She continued to blink at the empty door in semi-amazement before she slowly turned to Neville and asked:

"Did I hear correctly – was that a …proposal?" she said softly.

"It's all or nothing with him, especially when it comes to you." Neville said hotly. "God woman, when will you ever learn? There is no compromise in this – no plea bargain. So **drop** this campaign to get a second brother – on your terms – he's having none of it." And with that said and horrified at all he had learned about both Hermione and Rebecca too. Neville also marched out the kitchen - his disgust with the plotting of opposite gender having reached its limit for that day.

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"What's gotten into Neville?" Hermione asked mystified a few minutes later as she fixed herself a cup of coffee.

"He knows,"

"Knows what?"

"About Viktor being here in the stables - and your two engagements,"

"Why on earth did you tell him that?" Hermione asked gob-smacked.

"I don't know, but I couldn't stop myself," Rebecca admitted with a confused sigh. "Longbottom isn't the type of bloke I normally get to talk too. He was attracted to me sexually of course - like all the others. But he avoided all the cheesy chat-up lines I've heard a million times before. We actually had a conversation, and - - I don't know – my guard went down."

"Is he going to tell Ron?" Hermione asked with a tone of growing fear in her voice.

"No" Rebecca replied with absolute certainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I don't know – but my gut feeling is that Neville's word of honor can be trusted."

"You bribed him – with what?" Hermione replied sarcastically now sounding irritated. "Did you buy him off with a promise of **cash** - or - did you bat your eyebrows – thrust out your chest, breath heard for a-bit of seductive panting and in a deep husky voice wrap-him around your little finger."

"You really resent my looks… don't you? - And I can't understand why. We just have different methods to control our surroundings. You use intellect and facts to win you point - -"

"- - and you use your teats," Hermione growled in resentment.

"My breasts aren't that **huge** Granger. Besides; big breasts don't make a woman sexy; sensuality is a matter of attitude and presentation. I really wish you would stop blaming girls with figures - like me - for your abysmal record with men. You were the one to forego the use of the seductive equipment God gave you. If you could stop yourself from rubbing your superior intellect in men faces – you'd get more second dates."

"Blokes never go out on dates with the **real** me – they are going out with a celebrity - the national Heroine," Hermione retorted with regret. "It's as if I was a cinema actress famous for a single role – it's the character on the screen they are kissing - not the real me."

"My brother - -"

"Viktor was attracted to me because I was a novelty to him. I didn't instantly swoon in the presence of his Quidditch star status – unlike his other fan-groupies. But even he put me up on a pedestal in the end. I will always have deep feelings for Viktor – but I broke our two engagements because he had this idealist vision of me in his head - as something untouched by mortal imperfections."

"You don't want to be known as the - -"

"- - Goddess Granger,? Sweet mother of Merlin - I hate it when people call me that."

"And you have the gall to resent me? Look at me Granger, I mean …really look at **me**! I have an hour-glass figure - it's undeniable. But I'm not gifted with a Dolly Parton sized chest – or – extra wide child bearing hips. Even my arse is on the small side. I had a Veela in my family tree, but that was so long ago - I don't have even a tiny trace of their seductive magical powers to enthrall human males."

"What I have is a pretty face and you have that too – believe it or not. My talent if you want to call it that – is the gift of maximizing my natural assets. Our figures aren't all that much different – so what do I have …that makes you think of me as a slut?"

"I never said - -"

"No – but that's what you think. The sensuality that you envy in me - is all attitude, - I believe that I'm sexy and self-confidence is half the battle. The rest is presentation and that can be taught."

"I can't"

"Bullocks Granger, I heard what Ron said on his way out of the kitchen. Barrister's logic is useless in matters of the heart. Stop talking like a solicitor in court and you might find your-self being more persuasive with him. Right now - Neville thinks you are sweet talking Ron - downplaying the sibling-bit just to get his cooperation – so to bring Viktor – your lover and future husband - back from the Elysian fields in the heart of Hades underworld.

"WHAT?"

"Do you deny it?"

OoOoOoOo

**End trans –for now **


	8. Chapter 8

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 8; entitled: **Goddess versus Mortal**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 3,239

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Flashback (from last chapter) begins**

"Bullocks Granger, I heard what Ron said on his way out of the kitchen. Barrister's logic is useless in matters of the heart. Stop talking like a solicitor in court and you might find your-self being more persuasive with him. Right now - Neville thinks you are sweet talking Ron - downplaying the sibling-bit **just** to get his cooperation – so to bring Viktor – your lover and future husband - back from the Elysian fields in the heart of Hades underworld.

"WHAT?"

"Do you deny it?"

**Flashback ends **

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

"Well – partially… no – I can't deny my strong desire to bring Viktor back." Hermione reluctantly admitted.

"Then you are playing Weasley - just as Neville suspected."

"It's complicated,"

"Complicated is a gross understatement, Granger. – Even I don't know for certain who you're trying to hook-up with here?" Rebecca said in an irritated tone. "You know my brother and how Viktor will react; he'll consider your efforts to bring him back - a declaration of lifelong love."

"Yes I know, he has a habit of misinterpreting tiny gestures of mine and blowing them all out of all proportions." Hermione replied with a sigh.

"Tiny gestures my arse – there is nothing tiny about bring a bloke back from the dead."

"He was my first …in many things… and I cared deeply for him – but we were never - even at the best of times - - completely on the same page. Ours was a relationship filled with emotional miscues; I broke it off with him that last time - when I realized our differences greatly outnumbered what we had in common."

"- - and Weasley – all you ever did was argue?"

"You can't debate with a goddess, Viktor always saw me that way - while Ron on the other hand never did. Weasley often disagreed with me – he even dared to say when I was wrong – and not even Harry does that. Ron treats me like a down to earth fallible human being – he always got right in my face. For years, I didn't understand the true value of someone who actually talks **to you** rather than **at you **like some Greek goddess statue up on a pedestal**.**"

Rebecca suddenly acquired the dear in the headlights look as she had an epiphany. After years of being treated like brainless meat on two legs – she had accidently found a bloke who was attracted to her – and yet still carried on a rational conversation.

Rebecca suffered the curse of the super-model …blokes stayed away or lacked the courage to ask her out - because in their minds she was too pretty – not to already be with someone. Neville's novelty was in being one of the precious few who saw her as having a brain. He didn't like what she was doing and said so – instead of biting his tongue just to get in her knickers.

Weasley was attractive to Granger because he saw her as something other than a national heroine and walking research library and Rebecca was attracted to Neville for he treated her …as a person.

"Granger I apologize - You're right …life is complicated."

"Tell me about it. I have right here two men – each jealous of the other- -"

"Viktor was jealous of Weasley?"

"Right from the off; and every day thereafter, - - oh my yes."

"I never knew."

"He told me once; 'It's the quiet ones that you have to look-out for'." Hermione said smiling sadly at the memory. "Quidditch being what is - Viktor saw himself as a flash in the pan - fame wise – with a ten-to-fifteen year career …at best. Your brother had no clue as to what to do with himself after his seeker days were behind him. That thought use to terrorize him, for beyond Quidditch Viktor thought he had zero job skills."

"I had no idea."

"It took me years to get that fear of his - out in the open, and as it turned out he only got seven years as a pro. A pity really," Hermione said. "Viktor was jealous of Ron because he was so down to earth – so hands-on practical. And he was right – of course. Ron's management skills will only increase with experience – his pay buckets deepen - as he gets older.

"So you're not trying to reconnect with - -"

"- - with Viktor – no, he was robbed of his career by reporters like Skeeter's and shark-like photojournalists – he died too young and everyone deserves a second chance at happiness. I know this bitter truth better than most. So – of course I jumped at the chance to give Viktor a second shot at life. Viktor was my first lover and because of that – he holds an extra-special spot in my heart. But I don't love him – I'm not sure I ever did – not deep enough for marriage and children anyway. I wanted someone to comfort me after my interview mistake with Ron and thought I could - -"

"- - settle for second best," Rebecca said laughing softly in heartfelt regret. "It's ironic really"

"Sorry? - I don't understand."

"It's an odd thing. Look in the mirror Granger, you have a pretty face – but figure wise – you're a pipe cleaner compared to me. And yet in spite of a lack of proper social skills with blokes …or a figure …two very different men find you unforgettable and both think themselves unworthy of you. Case in point - in his suicide note my brother hoped you and Ron would get back together."

"Suicide note - - what suicide note? – - I read in the newspaper that Viktor had died of an accidental overdose."

"You shouldn't believe everything in print, Granger. The Bulgarian government didn't want the fame of their national hero tarnished - any more than the British Ministry will allow any scandal to touch Potter."

"Then how did you know - -"

"I found the body and the note – before the authorities arrived."

"That was three years ago."

"Yes"

"You've been planning this – THAT LONG."

"Yes, I've always a big fan of Camelot and the 'Once and future king'. It's my favorite book – I've re-read it a thousand times."

"So that's the book you're constantly reading,"

"Yes and speaking of which – brings us back to the topic of your piss-poor wooing of the Weasley. For all our sakes you have to swallow you know-it-all pride and get him back in there translating."

"I was hired to translate!" Hermione said sounding rather miffed.

"And you had hit a stone wall just before we got locked in here." Rebecca retorted. "Admit it Granger you were beaten - about to chuck the lot into the bin and walk away defeated until Weasley started corrected your homework. It's a classic case of role reversal"

"What?,"

"I'm told that at Hogwarts - you made plans with Weasley shooting holes in them – you plugged the wholes – until the strategy was flawless - and now you're the one poking holes in his translations."

"- - That method of problem solving ended abruptly during our mid-war camping trip – seventh year,"

"But why – you two were a well-oiled troubleshooting machine at Hogwarts?" Rebecca said thinking hard - trying to reason it all out. "The only reason he'd stop getting in your face - would be if he felt totally rejected by you and that can't be it. I know for a fact that Viktor received no 'love' letters during the last year of the war. He was actually scared that you'd been killed.

"Something happened in that tent, something – earth shattering," Hermione said with whispered regret and deep sadness.

"In that momentous interview in Australia you claimed that Potter was as much a brother as Weasley - - unless – unless. - - - Oh sweet Merlin – **that's it**! Potter hinted to me before I came here - that you actually fancied him – briefly - while you were on the run during the war - - if Weasley caught you snogging or worst! - - "

"- - Harry and I were never intimate, we didn't even kiss once on the mouth - we just shared one awkward dance - -"

"- - and Weasley saw it?"

"- - **No** - - he had already left before that happened; He accused me of choosing Harry over him."

"And clearly you did," Rebecca replied. "How long was Weasley gone?"

"He abandoned us in early autumn, somewhere near the end of September, I don't remember the exact date, I was so upset I sort-of lost track of the dates." Hermione said choking-up briefly at the memory. "I do remember the day he returned to us; it was the twenty-sixth of December."

"So assuming he left **on** the same day he left – that would be three months' worth of dancing alone in the tent with Potter."

"We only danced once, damnit."

"**No** sparks, eh? – But the choice accusation was valid - **if** you tried to start something with Potter. And Weasley left for ninety days thinking – **correctly** - you had chosen Potter romantically over him."

"Yes he did - but he was wrong. Like you said – there were no sparks between us,"

"And you told him this the moment Weasley returned?"

"Well no - - there wasn't time."

"From December twenty-six to May second and the **final battle** - a span of four months - you never found the time to corrected Weasley's impression that you hadn't chosen Potter romantically.

"Well no,"

"Did you ever tell him that you **loved** him – before giving that sibling-interview down-under?"

"Well no,"

"Did he ever confess his feeling for you?"

"He tried – during the final battle when we thought we were going to die – but I told him to shut-it."

"No wonder he believes his feeling for you were totally unrequited."

"Just because I didn't verbalize my feelings for Ron …during the war- -"

"But you did; in the 'only a brother' interview."

"Don't remind me, am I ever going to live down that mistake?" Hermione bemoaned.

"I spoke to Potter – extensively - before I recruited you and he told me that you had a habit of always put his needs ahead of Weasley. He said he didn't realize it until the trio had drifted apart. Harry felt that this neglect of Weasley as a person …**by you** – his lower priority in your regard …on-top of the _**brother interview**_ would make working with him on this project …extremely awkward. Especially when he finds-out that you're **only here** to bring back from the dead… your first love - Viktor."

"Viktor isn't the only reason I'm here – he's not even the main reason. But knowing Ron's temper from years of experience - I'm fully aware of the train wreck coming my way – thanks"

OoOoOoOo

**Five days later**

OoOoOoOo

The kitchen was quiet when Neville opened the door. Ron was still in a royal funk, and had repeated vowed to let the hired translator do her job …without his interference. He had tried to help and been highly insulted for his trouble. Ron next tried assisting Neville with the plants in the greenhouses - which the botanist appreciated on one level, but after three days, Ron's help was becoming bothersome. Neville had his own way of doing things and Ron was getting underfoot.

So as not increase Ron already foul mood, Neville had asked him – politely - two days previously - to write down everything he could remember from the pensive on the cultivation of the Lazarus plant. Sometimes putting something down on paper makes you remember more of the tiny details that would have been overlooked verbally.

Fearing that the cultivation details wouldn't keep Ron occupied for very long - - he also suggested that the 'protector' write down all the pensive had taught him of the three less well known languages on the livery collar, chain of office. Figuring the old English was current enough for Hermione to handle on her own.

Neville's thinking at the time was - that if Granger got into a bind again, Ron's knowledge on the ancient tongues in a written format - could be used as a reference – instead of forcing him into the same room with his favorite infuriating barrister.

As a result of the second day explosion of personalities - Neville had appointed himself as the unofficial go-between for Ron and the ladies.

He was still very much attracted to Ms. Mudge - but that was somewhat diluted - now that he knew of her at all costs ambition to bring-back her half-brother. The rival that Ron hated above all others – compelled Neville for the first time in his life to feel divided loyalties. Remus and Tonks back from the dead wasn't the issue – Krum was.

Since Ron had stormed off Neville had visited the Ladies cottage daily - to find out the progress being made on the translation and determine if they needed anything; reference books, parchment, quills, etc. Hermione was now more or less living in the lounge – and had stubbornly rejected Ron's homework help of the first day – meaning that the chalk-board translation once again made no sense at all. Neville was disappointed in this setback, and said so to anyone who would listen.

Although it wasn't something he wanted to do. Neville quickly tired of Hermione speaking down to him as if he was an illiterate gardener. But the potion mistress was not any more flexible. He had tried repeatedly to convince Rebecca into reawakening her half-brother **after** the rest of the project was over and done with.

Once the wards were down – and the Avalon and Charlemagne covens had their replacement resurrection potions in hand. It would be childishly simple thing to get Milady to send Weasley off on another 'long-overdue' inspection tour. Once Weasley was back in Europe, Neville would move heaven and earth help Rebecca bring back her brother- even if it meant withholding one dose of all three potions.

The problem was that Ms. Mudge was refusing to compromise – she feared and rightfully-so …that Milady wouldn't agree to let her keep a full dose of the potion after the project was finished.

"Don't you see Neville, I betrayed the **DE** to bring the Charlemagne livery collar to you-lot. In Milady's eyes I'm already a traitor and therefore not to be trusted. My one and only chance to resurrect my brother is when all three test subjects are fed the potion at the same time. I know that you are trying to save Ron the heartache. But if the truth is told - whether it's now or later - Krum will be Grangers problem to explain to Weasley and even she admitted that it wouldn't be pretty."

"So there is no way to avoid this disaster!"

"Yes there is- -"

"No – no – no, I'm a botanist not a ruddy matchmaker," Neville retorted. "Besides from what you tell me - Granger doesn't really know what she wants, beyond a male doormat – some bloke waiting at home to rub her feet. Right after the war I'll wager that Ron would have done just about anything to get Hermione in his bed - even if it meant being her dog. But times and Ron are different now.

"You said he still loves her."

"Yes, he does, but he has matured enough to know – unrequited love affairs don't work. Ron offered Granger marriage five days ago – and I think he meant it too. But Granger brushed it off as if Ron had never said it. She still treats him as second best, unworthy of her notice."

"What are you saying – did you expect her to accept a proposal he shouted at her as he walked out the door."

"As a tactical move – to stop Ron dead in his tracks and make him stumble in his thinking – as matter of fact – **yes**.

"You're not serious?

"Why not – had she called his bluff – right then and there and shouted back, 'fine – how about a September wedding? Ron would have been too stunned to move a muscle, and they would still be talking - if not openly cooperating … meaning we wouldn't be losing ground every day on this project – with them not speaking to each other like a pair of immature third-year teenagers."

"So you're saying the quaffle is in her court."

"HELL-YES, she did the injury with that stupid interview, she told him to **get lost** and he took that message to heart. The next move is hers."

OoOoOoOo

**End transmission** – for now


	9. Chapter 9

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 9; entitled:**project cost**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count:2,324

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

"So that's your advice," Rebecca said half-stunned. "I have to de-barrister Granger, reconnect her with her long suppressed femininity and teach the asexual sow - how to seduce a Weasley?"

"Yes that's about right. We both know Granger has a problem admitting she is wrong to Ron. She admitted to you the error of that interview, which is good first step, - but I for one, don't intend to spend my life locked in here – waiting for Granger to bend. Treating Weasley like a hostile witness in the dock – didn't accomplish all that much. So we change our approach. The allure of possible sex makes all men pliable – you of all people know this."

"What are you implying?"

"Never mind, forget I said it."

"No – no; Mr. Longbottom, - please - enlighten me."

"Alright, I guess you'll think I'm being stupid, but here goes," Neville said blushing a-bit. "You're a drop dead gorgeous bird, and you know it. So imagine that the first time we met was in a crowed London Muggle Pub. Your dress to the nines, surrounded by the best looking blokes in the place - -"

"Go on,"

"Who decides who you chat-up, who decides who you go home with?"

"Well I do naturally."

"So with a dozen blokes fighting for your attention, between a muscled ex-Quidditch star and a plain featured botanist – tell me honestly – would you give the botanist a second glance?"

"Ah …ah - Neville, - -"

"It's alright; I know you'd focus on the ex-Quidditch player," Neville said semi-apologetically. "My point is in making your decision you would focus on the bloke you **chose**. Your body language would reflect your come-hither desire. Without being consciously aware of it, you'd sendoff waves of sensuality that only the dead could ignore. Right now Ron thinks that Granger chose Krum and then Potter over him and from what you've told me – she actually did - just that. Most blokes, my-self included; take being called a brother-figure as a permanent rejection. The door is closed – the ship has sailed."

"So you're saying that if a girl finds a bloke attractive – this erotic focus kicks in automatically and no bloke with a pulse can ignore it," Rebecca asked genuinely amused by Neville's observations.

"Heavens no, there are different stages of attraction, beginning with polite friendliness, and ending with the - - well – as you said …the **erotic focus** that leads a couple into the bedroom. I've watched for years - other couples in their mating dance – so I know. Take me for example, I find you incredibly attractive, and you aren't even trying to flirt with me. We blokes try our best to stimulate you birds into that **mating focus**…some to just get laid – others to find a life-mate. We try and try -but most often we fail – for in the end… it is the woman who **chose's** her bed-mate.

"Hermione the barrister has tried to argue that her choice in mates has changed over time – but a legal approach has failed with a man who lives by the mantra of '_**actions speak louder than mere words'**_.

"Are you that way?"

"Me? Well… yeah – I guess so. I'm just an average bloke, a man of the earth. My soon to be ex-wife became a cougar because I wasn't exciting enough for her. She wanted a doormat, a rock she could depend on for drudgery of day-to-day living… with a lover on the side to make her see orgasmic-stars."

"Do you believe yourself boring and dull?"

"Oh no, - - Ron and I just march to the beat of a different drummer. After being publicly cockolded by circumcises we couldn't control. We more or less have been forced to withdraw from the dating scene.

"But surely - not forever?"

"In England – yes, I've come to think so … in fact; the more I think on it – the more I agree with Milady - who said the Wizarding community of Great Britain is like a small village – where everyone knows each other's business. Our Wizarding society is too small to remember the reason why - Ron and I were cockolded. Like in the novel - _**the Scarlett letter**_ – the reason behind our humiliation will fade – but the label of being made to look like a fool will remain. "

"You don't sound bitter."

"I'm not. Get kicked in the stones often enough by birds – and with each occurrence bouncing back becomes easier," Neville said with a resigned sigh. "In one respect I'm different than Ron, none of the women who have waltzed in and then out of my life …were the great-love of my life. I loved each one in my own way – but I never surrendered my inner-most soul to any of them. Hermione owns Ron soul –every square inch of it. She has abused it, stomped it flat, taken it for granted and neglected it - - but in the end she still owns it. I pity him really."

"Hannah was the foolish one; she gave-up a real nice bloke in you."

"Ouch!"

"What did I say?"

"Nice blokes finish last, that's a close second in demeaning insults - to calling me a brother, - so – **ouch**" Neville said in a semi-amused tone. "I have discovered recently that you birds prefer the hump-and dump bad boys for excitement value – an example being; cheating on a spouse behind his back - - As compared to solid down-to-earth blokes like Ron and me."

"So in your point of view a bird like me – would never give a bloke _**like you**_ a second glance because of your crowed-Pub analogy." Rebecca inquired.

"A valid analogy you must admit. If you weren't locked in here - -"

"- - So the only reason you haven't used your favorite chat-up lines- -"

"Not true, for _**truth-be-told**_ - I don't have any fancy chat-up lines. I talk to every bird I meet as I've talked to you - and try very hard not to put on airs …for in the end,"

"The bird gets to choose"

"Yeah, why pretend to be something you're not - just to impress," Neville said with the surprising candor that Rebecca had come to expect. "Sooner or later the real you comes-out. I've been led down the garden path too often to want to do that to others. Hannah knew what she was getting right from the off – and it wasn't enough for her.

"Her loss"

"Maybe, but a mistake is not so bad – if you learn something from it."

"You are wiser than you let on."

"You should be wary of us quiet ones, sometimes we can surprise you."

"Does Ron believe the girls chose mantra?" Rebecca asked.

"I'm sure he does - and because of it - Hermione being here – primarily to bring back your brother - will – without doubt …translate to just another massive kick in Ron's stones. The only way to avoid that devastating blow is for Granger to make it absolutely-clear beforehand …that once and for all she chooses him above **all others** – especially Viktor.

"And that's my task?" Rebecca asked semi-gob-smacked. "And what will you be-doing, while I bring out Grangers long lost femininity?"

"Doing my-bit to keep this project going," Neville replied. "Did you get the notebook on ancient Celtic that Ron put together?"

"Yes – but Granger refuses to even look at it – or - take any indirect help from Ron. She prefers face to face."

"We can lead a Granger to water, but we can't get it- -"

"- - to drink," Rebecca said finishing the quote, not quite realizing the romantic significance of concluding his sentences. "She has to be right every time – all the time."

"That's why she is still single, but what's your excuse? Surely you've had offers. "

"I've been propositioned more times than I can count, I even been engaged … a lot!"

"Have you ever gotten married?"

"**No**, in fact the closest I ever came to the-alter, came to an end - when Viktor died."

"Nuptials just postponed? On-hold …surely he didn't just walk away from you – you're perfection?"

"He declared he was prepared to wait for me to get over this _**silly-idea **_of bringing Viktor back."

"**Ouch** – wrong thing to say to someone like you."

"I had my doubts about us before that verbal-slip, but after he made it – it made me rethink a few things."

"The girl chooses," Neville said knowingly

"In the end – I guess I did,"

"Anyone special - waiting on the sidelines for this to be over,?" Neville asked with forced casualness.

"Not for the last three years,"

"Well I can't help but admire your perseverance."

"Thank-you; Neville. Are you still mad at me for what I'm doing?"

"Not angry at the goal, I realized that Viktor was very special to you. My problem was with the collateral damage of your pet-project. The DE would have gone ahead with or without your help – I know that too. It's just that so many died last time. Can I assume you told Harry all you knew of the **neo-DE** operating in today's Great Britain?"

"Names, safe housed, finical backers – the whole nine yards."

"They'll hunt you down for that; you know that – don't you?"

"I've prepared for that. By the way …have you given any thought to the '_**cusp of manhood**_' in the legend and what it might mean?

"No – not really,"

"Well - - what is the meaning of 'cusp of manhood' in regard to today's Wizarding Society?

"I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say it refers to the coming of age and becoming an adult."

"Well-done – you're spot-on, Neville. For Muggle's in many countries that is twenty-one. But for our kind, the age of becoming an adult has not changed for countless centuries."

"Seventeen,"

"Exactly – so if the Arthur Myth is correct, those brought back from the dead will awaken - -"

"- - Just shy of seventeen," Neville said once again finishing Rebecca's thought.

"How old is Hermione right now?"

"Twenty-six or seven – I think?"

"Do you think she could fancy a bloke '**nine'** years younger than herself?"

"She was **five** years younger than him when they first met during fourth year - so I don't know. But I see what you mean – it's an entirely different matter when the woman is older. Does Granger know about this?"

"No, do you think I should stress that point to Granger?"

"Oh hell yes, it could make all the difference in the world," Neville said sounding delighted. "Hey – hold-on that's means Remus and Tonks will be seventeen as well – with an eight year old kid."

"The resurrection potion makes life very complicated for everyone it touches. I fully expected to have to go into hiding for the rest of my life with my now **younger** brother. He was the elder before he died - but he'll be junior to me now …if this project is successful. Remus and Tonks can never see their son for the same reason. Everyone knows they died during the last battle revealing that they had found a way back from the dead would cause a world-wide panic."

"You're right of course," Neville exclaimed sounding very worried. "Loads of people would demand that the ministry bring back their love-ones. Sooner or later some DE would resurrect Voldemort. So we have to keep this secret – limit the potion to a select few."

"Exactly,"

OoOoOoOo

**End transmission** – for now


	10. Chapter 10

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 10; entitled: **Last** **project report to milady**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 3,195

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**AN/** I like to thank the few of that have read this tale - for as a reviewer wrote - too many in fan-fic have Ron's character and future career set in stone. Hermione is also seen in a certain light which prevents people like me from the freedom to write her and Ron in a different way than accepted cannon. How many of us actually understand what **AU** alternate universe means - I wonder.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

It was Monday morning, the beginning of the fourth week of the project. Time once again for his weekly report to Lady Prewett and Neville was not a happy camper. He had finally convinced Ron into going back one day a week to the Ladies cottage to offer his assistance – in translating the instructions. Avoiding the whole four languages snafu. He even had good news for Milady since last week.

While writing down what he remembered of the pensive download, Ron had recalled that during a previous attempt to de-code the instruction sheet in 1067 AD, the year after the Norman Conquest. An Avalon witch had come to believe that she had translated four words of the gibberish instructions sheet – "_**under the full moon**_."

Now whether this meant that the Lazarus plant would only flower under the full moon or that the potion had to be made at night under the full-moon – remained unclear. This translation was disputed by later translators - but some still considered it valid.

One of the selling points was that each understandable word on the instruction sheet had been in one of the four languages found on the outside of the livery collar. The number four had some mysterious importance to Merlin, four people in the project, four special talents, four languages and now four words readable on the instruction sheet.

At first Hermione had welcomed the news and for his part Ron had nearly been rendered speechless at Hermione's change in appearance. Neville expected that losing her asexual "butch" appearance had not come easily for Hermione. But the calming effect on the tension in the room was notable. Her hair hung loose instead of in a tight bun behind her head. She was actually wearing a dress, loose fitting admittedly – but still … a **dress** - and last but not least an ever so a light touch of perfume.

It was Hermione's clearly feminine fragrance that affected Ron the most. She stood extra close to him as he pointed out each of the words hidden in the gibberish of the instruction sheet, unconsciously invading his personal space in excitement over this possible breakthrough. Half way through pointing out the four words, Ron abruptly paused –closed his eyes, lowered his nose into her hair and inhaled deeply. The mixture of the scent of her shampoo with a touch of perfume was so intoxicating to Ron that he lost his train of thought - - and Neville gave two thumbs-up toward Rebecca for her good work.

Regretfully Hermione did not notice that Ron was succumbing to her feminine charms. Eager as always for new information she harshly snapped at him to finish pointing out the other understandable words, spoiling the mood. Ron stepped back, shook his head to clear it and glared at the bookworm in front of him. He took her rebuff in the worse way possible. To add insult to injury, Hermione began to argue over the nuance of the Celtic word for Moon.

Neville could see Ron throwing up emotional barriers at the same time physically taking a step back and the botanist shook his head in regret. He turned around and sadly walked to the kitchen as Hermione in full barrister mode – began… once again - to cross examine harshly the poor bloke who had just come-by to help.

"Neville I tried, honestly I did. It was pulling teeth but - -" Rebecca said while entering the kitchen on Neville's' heels.

"- - Don't apologize for pulling off a miracle – you did wonderfully. It's not your fault that Granger reverted back to type within inches of success. " Neville said interrupting her - so deep in thought he didn't realize he had suddenly taken Rebecca's hands into his own – holding them tenderly. Ms. Mudge for her part was looking hard at their joined hands feeling more delighted than if he had French kissed her. They hadn't touched before this moment and Rebecca was delighted beyond words – for reasons she still could not explain to herself – she found just holding hands to be a bigger milestone than being offer lunch in New York City aboard a millionaire's private jet.

OoOoOoOo

**Four hours later**,

OoOoOoOo

"So Granger is the roadblock?"

"I wouldn't call what she is doing as obstructive," Neville stammered while speaking to Milady Prewett. "She… just – just …let's say that Ms. Granger- - has never worked well with others. Both during Hogwarts and after."

"This I am aware of, my investigation of Granger's background and career has pointed repeatedly to her tendency to end-up working alone. Even legal aids don't want to do research for her due to her know-it-all reputation."

"And Ms. Mudge,?" Neville inquired softly

"A blank page - - As far as I can ascertain she popped **full grown** out of Zeus head like Athena," Muriel pointed out in a highly frustrated tone. "What have you found out?"

"Nothing – background wise, all questions - beyond her vague semi-sisterly relationship with Victor Krum - - prompts an immediate change of subject. But surely if Krum had a half-sister that in it-self would be a place to start background inquires. "

"Muggle Bulgaria is a modern European country in most respects," Milady said in an irritated tone –bespeaking that failure did not come easy to the Prewett matriarch. "But its Wizarding community is backward as we are, when it comes to pure-blood family histories. The Krum family refused to open their marriage records to my investigators - and their magical government doesn't keep birth, marriage or death records. The Krum family barrister apparently - didn't even know that Viktor had died – or – that his body was missing from the burial crypt."

"So even her claim to be related - -"

"- - to Krum could be an elaborate fiction. I warned you and Ronald about speaking to her," Muriel said harshly.

"There are only the four of us locked-up in there, and I need Rebecca's cooperation to get Ron and Hermione to work together – for even brief spats of time …like once a week - when I'm fortunate enough to manipulate them into the same room."

"Have you and Ron finally reached the point of requesting that I replace Granger?"

"**NO** milady, a fortnight ago I would have demanded it, but the situation has undergone a subtle change in tactics recently," Neville said smiling big. "Ron now keeps his own translation chalkboards at the stables and when he encounters a sticking point he then and only tehn goes and confronts Granger. They argue the sticking point to death, in their special problem solving mode - - and then Ron at the point of squeezing all he can out of Grainger's brilliant mind; then begins to defuses the situation by ever-so gradually conceding to her point of view. He gets the information he wanted and she thinks she has won another argument. "

"That's quite cleaver – really." Muriel said with a smile.

"Milady; this re-feminization of Granger has been Rebecca's idea from the get-go and has worked out to all of our benefit …up to a point. Ron's ability to adapt to any situation like moving pieces on a chess board has been a remarkable sight to see – and shows a maturity that was frankly, a great surprise to me. Clearly he has grown-up in the years since Hogwarts and the war.

"People underestimate Potter's sidekick", Muriel rambled clearly-warming to one of her favorite subjects. – "Even his friends thought his future limited to being in Potter's shadow either as a Auror or in Quidditch. Kingsley did him a great favor **not** keeping his word to take Ronald and you Neville - into law enforcement."

"I agree ma'am I would have made a horrible Auror. But as you seem clearly fond of your nephew - I must ask; does he know the identity of **all** three of the test subjects," Neville blurred out unexpectedly

"I don't withhold information like Dumbledore was fond of doing with Potter. The pensive download gave Ronald everything the Avalon coven had on this project. That included Krum as a test subject and all the verifiable truth we could discover on the on and off physical relationship Granger had with Krum before his suicide. I can see on your face that you've been worried that we within the Avalon coven has set-up Ronald to be blindsided with Krum-Granger relationship?"

"Yes Milady. I was even offered a twenty thousand galleon bribe not to tell him."

"By who?"

"Ms. Mudge. I have withheld my knowledge of Krum – to keep the translation going. But once the flowers bloomed - - "

"- -and you no longer needed Granger,"

"Exactly."

"I've clearly underestimated you as well." Muriel said while cocking an eyebrow in mild surprise.

"I'm being played by Rebecca - so don't start thinking that I'm smarter than I am. She's holding back – guarding her tongue. She knows loads more about me personally than my Gran did when she was alive and yet I know next to nothing about her."

"Knowing of a trap is the first step in avoiding it, Neville" Muriel said softly.

"I'm not really a cunning man, Milady. Subtly and subterfuge is beyond me - more often than not," Neville said in bluntly honest self-appraisal. "I can tell you Ms. Mudge is surprisingly well read, comes from a cultured environment - with a clear love for Muggle fine art, stage musicals, opera and jazz. She doesn't drink the hard stuff like 'Firewhisky' preferring instead expensive wine. But at the same time I can't tell you if her parents are living – and if so - where. Where she went to school is unknown and how much magic she can wield has been deliberately understated, and finally - friends, family are all taboo subjects."

"Have you gotten '**closer**' to Ms. Mudge? Milady asked in a worried tone.

"Excuse me Milady – but have you seen her?" Neville asked. "She's beyond ruddy beautiful, and I suspect has more than the tiny fraction of **- Veela** blood – she claims she has. Maybe not enough to enthrall a weak-willed male like me – or – she's holding back that power in reserve - as a trump card. She clearly has a secret agenda – if not to bring back Krum - then something equally important. I believe she will stop at nothing to get what she wants – and she is playing us all - **me** in particular - to achieve that goal."

"You didn't answer my question, Neville? Are her charms working on you?" Milady asked in a stern commanding tone.

"Of course they are, I'm falling hard for this mystery witch, as **you knew** I would."

"What are you implying?" Muriel asked her face showing that she hadn't expected this reply.

"Rebecca brought Granger on board to distract Ron, even a blind person could see that - and for the most part it's working perfectly. It's all in the way he looks at her. Even a generally clueless bloke like me can tell. He isn't rendered helpless by her rants anymore, that much is true - he's getting more out of their encounters than during school – but don't doubt that his love for Granger hasn't _**once again**_ crossed the line into the realm of total devoted heartbreak – especially when Krum presence is finally confirmed by Hermione. He is in denial right now and will be rendered an emotional wreck when the truth is exposed."

"You think Granger will run off with Krum and Mudge the moment the potion is made," Milady asked in dread.

"It's a scary possibility," Neville replied sad. "Rebecca has planned this a long time and I'm guessing she is as good at chess as Ron ever was. Every move carefully thought-out, for Rebecca is as brilliant as she is beautiful. It's quickly getting to the point in their mating dance - that Granger and Ron are becoming **unconsciously obliviou**s to Rebecca and me. That means Ms. Mudge doesn't have two men to manipulate – or I should say – to wrap around her little-finger. Instead all she has to do is focus her considerable charm on one dim-witted gullible bloke - - **me**."

"Then you do know she is using you."

"Yes ma'am, and for the moment I'm enjoying the ride. She is putting more effort – more flattery - more laughter at my lame jokes and generally giving me more undivided attention – than any girl I've dated has ever done - combined.

"Coming on to you …too strong" Milady asked knowingly.

"Actually now that I think on it - she is overdoing it a-bit, there is little subtlety in her overkill – but that's understandable really. I imagine a beauty like her isn't use to chatting-up after a bloke – for birds like her - it's the blokes that do **all** the chasing. She is a smart girl and I guess she never had to do any-work to get a bloke under her thumb before."

"Manipulating you must be vital to her plan," Muriel pointed out.

"I'm not worth all this trouble – but I guess so," Neville admitted sadly. "So if you are asking if I know she will break my heart when she gets what she wants – and leaves - - -yes I do. Luckily for all concerned - I'm not as gullible as I was before Hannah's betrayal. Pretty birds are **not** attracted to plain featured botanists – her flirting is calculated – and obviously so. Unlike with Hannah, at least this time I can see the bus that's going to hit me square in the face. To be honest ...if I thought for one second that her attraction toward me was sincere – I be on her side in a heart-beat – like the nearly love-sick puppy she's made me into.

"The London Muggle pub analogy – yes I remember," Muriel said with a deep sigh of relief.

"I still firmly believe that in **this** battle of wits – Ron and I are honestly out of our depth. Even if Ron knows about Krum – as you say - and is just hoping that Granger will tell him – long before the test subjects are exposed. That she has withheld so much about Viktor for so long full discloser will destroy him. "

"Then Avalon must depend on you."

"Don't kid a kidder, I'm all but putty in Rebecca's hands now – and you know it. Ron is the chess-player here and the moment Krum is revealed - your chess strategist will be rendered useless. Whatever back-up plan you have for when Ron and I let you down – and we will …better be a good one."

"You're sure I have a back-up plan?"

"I know I'm being played, I suspect Ron knows it too. You are the only one in a position to prevent a disaster.

"I'm not going to tell you my plans – naturally."

"Good thing that."

**OoOoOoOo **

**Just then there was a loud knock on the outside door to Milady's office**

**OoOoOoOo**

Without waiting to be bid enter, Millicent burst into the room.

"Milady – Milady, the Ministry conducted a raid on the ruins of a castle in Wales. The prophet is describing it as the neo-DE headquarters. Dozens captured", Millicent shouted.

"Yes – yes, do not believe everything the Daily Prophet prints. I doubt the raid was ten-percent as effective as the newspaper reported."

"But milady we have a visitor who can confirm - -." Millicent declared

"- - and who is this visitor?" Muriel replied sounding not all that impressed.

A very familiar face was waiting in the doorway –silently listening to the conversation. Now he marched right up to Milady's desk and laid the stolen Avalon livery collar on the desk.

"Oi Harry - good to see you mate," Neville declared with a sad smile - at the sight of his old dorm mate left Neville with mixed feelings – for his dorm-mate had not lifted a finger to save him from Azkaban. Harry James Potter had entered the Prewett estate - like a peacock on the prod - with proof that the DE attempt to make the potion had ended.

"Sweet Mother of Merlin Potter, you've led the **neo-DE**… **straight to us**!"

OoOoOoOo

**End Trans** – for now.


	11. Chapter 11

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 11; entitled: try to not panic

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction (dot) net id# 641050

Word count: 3,461

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow smut.

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**AN/** hard on hero's - little fluff - no sex - thick with story - - equals few readers, go figure

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

Neville burst into the quiet kitchen of the ladies cottage in a near frantic state. Looking about he saw Rebecca in her customary spot next to the stove reading one of Ron's notebooks about the Merlin myth - while sitting at the table sipping tea. In spite of his excitement the sight of Rebecca naturally gave Neville pause, as it did every time he saw this particular witch. Even dressed in a pair of old/worn oversized sweats - with her hair a jumbled mess – to him - this particular raven-haired woman was beyond stunningly beautiful.

The V-neck top of the worn sweatshirt plunged down her front low enough to give Neville a tiny glimpse of cleavage. The soft curve of her breasts was enough to render him momentarily motionless - but then she looked up from what she was reading – and the poor botanist was instantly spell-bound, totally lost in her soft grey-eyes.

One of Neville's most endearing qualities in Rebecca's viewpoint was the fact that although the sight of her cleavage aroused him, as it did all men who came into her life. And yet; Neville never openly stared at her bosom – as other's often did – forgetting their manners. His eyes took-in the 'bobbie trap' she had unconsciously set - - and then lifted up to her face – to look her directly in the eyes. He saw beyond the sex-meat – for his gaze sought-out the controlling mind of the lovely body and that was a major turn-on for the potion mistress.

Rebecca meant what she said when she told Hermione that sensuality was attitude and presentation. All a girl needed was a little foresight to set the scene. A model walking down a runway looks sexy by placing one foot directly in front of the other - thus forcing her hips to sway seductively. Magazines models are taught to sit in a manner that screams exotic, irregardless of what the model is wearing at the moment. It took a long time for Rebecca to discipline herself to sit and walk like a model – but now it was instinctive and the payoff was similar to the effect of a stupefying charm on the average male. Rebecca had been sweating-bullets trying to teach Hermione the fine art of sensual presentation, the art of seduction she had distained at Hogwarts - but after weeks of effort - the proof was in the pudding.

"Where's Ron," Neville managed to mumble his voice breaking like a teenager in the midst of puberty. "I looked for him in his above the stables living quarters - and he wasn't there." Instead of answering Rebecca merely jerked the thumb of her left hand in the direction of the lounge - which was most usually silent as a tomb – considering the battling Granger/Weasley …were somewhere within.

"They're not arguing?" Neville asked …listening hard for the shouting – now suddenly, highly surprised.

"A change in approach – on Hermione's part - - Pulling teeth really, in a courtroom you carry a stick – in romance a carrot is better, depending …of course – on how its wrapped."

"She's seducing him?"

"Heaven's **no**, she is merely presenting her logic in a more pleasing format. Granger doesn't accept the concept of using sex as a weapon. But with different packaging – a few reminders that she is a woman underneath all that brilliance - and poor Ron is disarmed."

"Is that what you done to me – packaging to disarm – like the centerfold pose you were in when I came in?"

"It worked didn't it?" Rebecca asked sweetly. "At least for a few minutes - anyway. Most men – including very rich and powerful wizards would still be enthralled by that well-practiced pose - - - putty in my hands - drooling in their eagerness to serve me."

"Well congratulations – you've succeeded – I am enthralled – hopelessly enthralled."

"Not completely – or – you'd be randy as hell and totally speechless right now", Rebecca said in totally rational tone. "And may I ask – **why not**. Once Granger led the spellbound Weasley into the lounge – I decided to pull out all the stops and see how far I could push you. You're not **Gay **– are you?"

"Sorry – to disappoint, but – NO** - **I'm straight. But this is just a game to you, isn't it? Sex is just a weapon to gain dominance in any situation – in this case …over me - - merely a means to an end - right? "

"You spoke to Milady this morning – didn't you?" Rebecca asked raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Tone it down please, if you want a rational conversation with me," Neville said angrily as he shook-off his arousal - knowing it was just a tactic to gain advantage helping loads. "You are clearly more Veela than you let on."

"I told you the truth, I only have a trace of Veela blood in me, I have a few of their gifts – but not enough to totally enthrall as even a half-Veela can do." Rebecca pouted clearly disappointed.

"All wasted on a bloke like me - or - have you forgotten my Muggle Pub analogy?"

"Is that how you're resisting my best sexy pose - the pub analogy?"

"If this was a standard –out in the open – research project – in the middle of London, you wouldn't have given me the time of day."

"Then you haven't fallen in love with me?" She pouted even more disappointed and a touch – hurt.

"Of course I have, damnit," Neville shouted, suddenly angry. "I'm a complete gone when it comes to you, but I'm also enough of a realist to know when I'm being played. I just told Milady that in a few more weeks my loyalties will most likely change in your favor – just as you intended.

"Intended?"

"Spare me the naïve act. You plan to neutralize the male members of this project - has succeeded totally, in another fortnight or less, Granger will be openly sharing Ron's bed and the two of them will be to wrapped-up in each other too - -"

"- - you are forgetting about my brother, Viktor – aren't you. He will torpedo Grangers hope for a reunion with Weasley."

"A nice false lead, a diversion for whatever you are really after."

"Perhaps you have failed to notice, but I haven't lied to you." Rebecca said the hurt in her voice now plain as day.

"Oh really – then you won't mind telling me your real – verifiable – surname. Where you went to school, your mothers surname, where she lives, how she was connected to the Krum's - and all the other personal history items that you've withheld – while you sweet talked the same things out of me."

"I held that back, because I didn't know who I could trust here. The neo-Death Eater movement is after me and my family," she was now fighting back tears - "if I used my real name they'd be targeted - you don't understand what kind of danger they would be in – you don't have any - -"

"- - Living family, that's true enough," Neville replied bitterly – "but Ron does – Hermione does, they are both targeted by being a part of this project. But the fact that you didn't trust me enough to tell me your life story is as of this morning – a moot point. This project has been **officially** terminated.

"What?" Hermione declared in stunned voice - and turning his head Neville saw the famous bookworm with Ron hand wrapped possessively around her waist - standing in the doorway into the kitchen – clearly she and Ron had overheard Neville's last few sentences.

"There was an Auror raid conducted sometime last night – led by Harry Potter him-self', Neville told the room at large. "On a tip by an unnamed source – one hundred Aurors descended on the ruins of a castle in southwestern Wales. In the intact dungeons under the ruins was the **neo-DE** led Lazarus plant research center. Harry captured everything, the plants – their attempt to translate the outer makings, the original instruction sheets – all their records on the project and finally - the stolen Avalon livery collar".

"Where is the Daily Prophet article describing all this? I'll want to read all the details." Hermione asked her natural arrogantly commanding tone - her instinctive competitive nature making her curious about how far the **neo-DE** had gotten in their translation in comparison to her own.

"The raid wasn't in the newspaper; the Ministry has a news blackout on the attack. Harry brought us the news …personally."

"Bloody-hell, our cover and-or our location has been compromised." Ron roared.

"Harry claimed that everything he brought to Milady Prewett - was checked for tracking spells."

"How did Harry know to come here? Milady isn't the current leader of the Avalon coven," Rebecca complained.

"Milady asked the same question – and Harry can't recall who told him to come here. and while they were arguing over that point and calling-up a huge Auror guard for the Prewett estate. I took a good hard look at the **neo-DE** translations of the four languages on the outside of the Avalon collar.

"And?"

"Either the Avalon livery has a different message on the outside than the Charlemagne livery, - or - the **neo-DE** translator is a royally incompetent idiot. The parchment copy of what they had on their chalkboards had huge-gaps, entire sentences were missing in the old English, and the Latin – with the Celtic section was totally blank – not a single word translated.

"Then we are ahead of them!" Hermione shouted gleefully

"Yeah, and when I pointed that out to the arguing Potter and Milady, - their heated conversation abruptly ceased", Neville said in a deeply exasperated tone.

"It was a trap – baited by an expert," Ron pointed out deadly serious. "The **neo-DE** had reached a dead end in their research – and getting no-where fast - they decided to give-up what little they had – _**after duplicating everything - and moving it to another location - - - of course**_ – in exchange of finding us and discovering how much we knew. I have to agree with Milady – the only safe thing to do now is to end the project and disband our precious little group"

"Oh Shite," Rebecca said frightened – suddenly looking around as if expecting an attack at any minute, as she unconsciously moved closer to Neville for protection.

"Thats correct - - Milady is convinced that our operation here has been compromised and has ordered an evacuation. I've been commanded to tell you all to make **three** copies everything we've gotten so far. I'm to reload the original livery-collars with fresh cuttings – seeds, our official translation of the outer rings, - which are Hermione's naturally. As well as the original instruction sheets and take those up to the Manor house to be delivered back to the original covens. Each host coven will then establish an independent research center in a secret location to continue the research afresh."

"So this little project is over."

"That's what Harry thought when he departed to set-up an ambush for any **neo-DE** coming here. The official liaison for the Charlemagne society thinks the same. "

"We are giving-up now – why?"

"The prioress of the Avalon was never happy with the concept of going outside the coven to get this job done. I would suppose the Charmaine group feel the same way. The two covens will indeed get back their livery collars intact, exactly as it was before the **neo-DE** attacked. It lacks the third does of the resurrection potion - and separately without doubt – will set-up a research centers manned exclusively by **witches** they trust - to brew the last dose."

"No men around to muck it up, without hesitation – the good prioress will find a male to blame for this project's failure". But didn't you say three copies." Hermione asked.

"Yes I did. Milady is **still** privately convinced - that we four were fate's sole choice to solve the resurrection potion problem – and our attempt only failed due to outside factors. Milady wants Ron to secretly bury somewhere on the property - a third copy of everything we've come up with so far – in case the Avalon and Charlemagne covens get robbed again. Or so she told me as she walked me out of her office".

"We are to pack our bags with our personal belongings - and return to our regular work either here or in London. Ms. Mudge is to wait here for Auror transportation to another safe-house location - sometime in the middle of tonight.

"Hold on a second, I had a deal with Milady", Rebecca said furiously, "to be a major part of making the Merlin's resurrection potion. What about my brother - -damnit! ".

"Milady is painfully aware of deal she made with you – as I pointed out rather strongly that we wouldn't have anything to research - -without you giving us the Charlemagne collar,"

"Thank-you for that Neville", Rebecca said her gratitude palatable.

"Milady promised me that she would speak on your behalf to the Avalon prioress about getting you on the next …all-girl research team. Meanwhile; we are to copy Granger's chalkboards onto parchment - as they are the only official translation, and then destroy the chalkboards. And that's the translation we will include with all the other material into the two original livery collars. Milady doesn't know about your notebooks; Ron – or - your private chalkboards, for that matter. We should gather everything we have in a secret location – and then destroy everything else".

"Your-what? You have your own private chalkboards. You've been keeping things from me - -" Hermione said in an angry accusatory tone - only to be interrupted – by Neville.

"- - Yell at Ron later Hermione - I haven't finished, and you're not going to like this **at all** Rebecca – Milady thinks she can talk the prioress into taking you on as potion mistress – as a matter of Honor. However - we are ordered to abandon our current our test subjects – as being too cumbersome to move quickly and discreetly. Each coven will most likely name their own test subjects. On my way back here I thought of the prefect spot to safely hide - Remus, Nymphadora and Viktor bodies – until such time as they can be safely reburied."

"Neville Francis Longbottom – you promised not to tell Ron." Hermione said horrified. Rebecca meanwhile was stunned speechless at the thought of her half-brother being left behind.

"I didn't tell him, Milady did – long before this nasty bit of distraction, manipulation, half-truths and lies - _**special project**_ - began," Neville said deeply incensed. "So before he first saw you in Milady's library on **day one** – he knew how eager you've been to move 'heaven and earth' to bring back form hades the bloke who took your **cherry**.

"Neville you have ruined everything - -" Hermione bemoaned looking horrified.

"I gave my word to Rebecca - that he wouldn't hear the truth from me, and I didn't break my vow. I learned only today that the pensive download of the Avalon attempts before ours - - included all that was known of the members of this project, background checks – relationships – the whole nine yards. By the way – Hermione – Ron now knows **more** about your various flings with Krum – at Hogwarts and post - than you ever told him. I'm also guessing that it includes things about me that even I didn't know – right Ron?"

"Pretty much – yeah ", Ron said softly - clearly embarrassed.

"You knew Krum was here – you knew he was one of the reasons for me being here – all along - and said nothing," Hermione said as she drew away from Ron confounded.

"Yes, and I could say the same thing about your Krum secret'. Ron replied sadly – 'But that's all water under the bridge now – as we have managed over the course of the last four weeks to become on semi-friendly terms again. That's what you wanted wasn't it."

"Well yes, "

"Then you can go back to London – after being item specific - **Obliviated** – with a clear conscious. Congratulations - - you have two unofficial semi-brothers now."

"Back to London - - Obliviated?" Hermione said stunned at how calmly Ron was reacting.

"To tell the truth - your lack of flexibility over the translation during the course of the last fortnight has finally convinced me that you didn't have anything more to add to this project - anyway. Your chalkboards of ten minutes ago are more or less back to where you were on **day one**."

"But we are getting-on so much better, just today we- - "

"- - Discussed exclusively a series of personal issue conflicts – which has nothing to do with the job you were hired to do. Personal issues that after today are hopefully resolved."

"You're dismissing me?"

"Milady is sacking all of us – actually, except for the so-called Ms. Mudge – of course. Officially all our information will be returned to the Avalon and Charmaine societies – Milady's pet project declared by the Avalon coven a dismal failure. It won't take much to convince the public that we didn't get much further than the **neo-DE**. Because truth-be-told … we didn't."

"Ms. Mudge will just disappear into a safe house for a month or two – before joining the second Avalon attempt to crack Merlin's resurrection puzzle – or - quietly leaving the country for good - - while I'll be returning to my Chief Steward duties. Honestly, for some weeks now – I have come to believe that we as a team would fair no better than the teams of four ...before us".

"It's time we accept our failures in life and move on", Ron said looking hard at Hermione. "Alright then - - let's get cracking – we have bags to pack and things to destroy. We'll have one last dinner together at six - before this story ends for all of us. Come on Neville – I'll help you repack the livery collars.

OoOoOoOo

End Trans – for now.

**An;** it doesn't end here – if anyone cares.


	12. Chapter 12

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 12; entitled: **Welcome back Granger … (TV pun)**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction . net id# 641050

Word count: 2,943

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't ****follow**** cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

AN/ even superman scratches his ass when it itches – meaning - everyone makes mistakes and what makes a real hero is in accepting that very human fallibility - owning up to mistakes made and aggressively making amends to those we hurt. It's easy to think ourselves prefect – the hard part is excepting that we're not.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

When she first opened her eyes, the first thing she saw clearly was the rough concrete ceiling. She felt as weak as a new born puppy – her arms felt like lead and she had a massive headache. The second thing she noticed was that she was naked and laying on an elongated eight-foot wooden table.

Well naked wasn't actually correct – it would be more proper to say - that she was without clothing, for her body was wrapped in a somewhat confining cotton sheet like a mummy - from just under her armpits down to her feet. Glancing slowly to her right and left she saw several cloth and wood partitions on either side of her table – like the temporary and very familiar single-bed cubicles of the old Hogwarts hospital wing.

She next realized that she had a major case of cotton mouth and as if on cue - she felt a straw touching her lips. Looking to her right she saw a house elf – dress in a spotlessly clean hand-towel like dress …literally towering above her, indicating that the tabled she laid on was close to the ground.

The straw touching her lips was attached to a glass and inferring its meaning - she took the straw into her mouth and sucked-in deeply a very refreshing gulp of lemonade. The glass must have been magiced for Hermione was sure she drank more than the eight ounce container it appeared to be. Her thirst sated for the moment she pushed the straw out with her tongue, for her arms felt too heavy to lift, she had already given-up the idea to sitting-up.

"Thank-you", she managed to say in a weak hoarse-whisper.

A moment later the house-elf bowed respectfully and then disaperated. Exhausted by the effort to drink, Hermione dozed off for a bit, when she opened her eyes again - in a chair next to her 'table' looking down at her - sat Neville Longbottom.

"Tweaky told me you had awoken, how are you feeling?"

"Utterly terrible, what hit me – I must look horrible." Hermione replied weakly.

"I must disagree; I'd say – for a recently dead person – you've never looked better – or –younger".

"Dead person – I don't understand – what spell was I hit with?"

"Think hard - what's the last thing you remember before everything went black,"

Hermione paused and tried to clear her dazed head. '_What was the last thing_?' she asked herself. '_There were alarms – the sounds of battle and then – oh god –'_

"Ron was killed", she said out-loud. "He pushed me aside and took a _**slashing curse**_ meant for me – he died to save me. He was cut clean in half across the mid-section …right in front of me – it was horrible".

"And …after that,?"

"I went crazy – I guess," she replied with a weak trembling voice thick with sorrow. "I wanted to kill the arse that killed my Ron, I used borderline unforgiveable to main and destroy – I showed no mercy wanting them to suffer as much as possible.

"Yes - - that's true, as I understand it you got five in revenge before they finally took you-out."

"What spell did they use on me – I feel ghastly."

"The _**Avada Kedavra**_,"

"What? You must be mistaken; Neville – or - we wouldn't be having this conversation. No-one survives the **killing Curse**".

"Actually; Harry Potter did – twice," Neville said oddly amused. "But I wasn't making myself clear; in your particular case you didn't survive the Killing curse as Harry did. You **died** and until about twenty minutes ago you were as dead as Ron still is. As I understand it, the Avada Kedavra curse permanently stops the heart in a way that is undetectable by a Muggle autopsy. As physically the rest of your body is undamaged - that made you the first of the test subjects to be revived".

"What,?"

"Congratulations Hermione you are the first person since Merlin's time to benefit from the successful application of the resurrection potion."

"No way!" she exclaimed semi-gob smacked

"The next to join us - from beyond the veil - will be your former fiancée, Viktor Hugo Krum, as he was only decomposing in the ground for three years. Then the Lupin's at seven years - - and finally Ron, as his body is still hacked into two pieces. Apparently; Merlin was a-bit short on details concerning how long it took to pull his first test subject together after being literally tore a-part by a trio of trolls.

"Merlin's potion – and **you** made it?" Hermione said nearly gob-smacked

"Always the same tone of surprise; - Granger," Replied Neville - his voice thick with contempt. "Are you really so full of yourself to think that the world wouldn't be able to turn without you."

"I – I … that was rather rude wasn't it?" She said apologetically.

"I really can't understand what Ron sees in you. And from what I've heard - your deficiency in a social life reflects your lack of people skills."

"**NEVILLE**, what's gotten into you?" Hermione snarled feeling highly offended by the raw truth.

"Forgive me – I haven't gotten all that much sleep in the last week. Rebecca was taken away to a safe house - within hours after the attack ended and since then - it was **just me** to figure out Merlin's puzzle.

"Then How?

"First off – there was an accident. No –that's wrong - - I getting ahead of myself here - - let's start over again …shall we? Neville said his voice slurring-slightly from exhaustion. "With my help Ron cleared out his quarters above the stables – loaded all of his notebooks and copied his chalkboards onto parchment – stuffed the lot into a wooden crate and lugged it down here - -"

"- - What accident – and where is here? Oh – darn …I interrupted again," Hermione exclaimed softly.

"**Here** is a converted root cellar underneath the concrete floor of Greenhouse number one. It connects by stairs to the Greenhouse above and by a long tunnel to the basement of the Gardeners cottage. Ron and I expanded it into an elongated - 'moon-room'- for the cultivation of the highly profitable Wolfbane plants.

"As no one on the Prewett estate knows of its existence - Ron thought it the perfect place to bury our **third-copy** research. We had already harvested all the seed pods off of the Lazarus plants – ripped them up by the roots - taken clippings for the livery collars and burned the lot behind my cottage.

"…But the accident?"

"You in a hurry to get somewhere?" Neville snarled in a tried… put-upon tone. "If so - then don't let me keep you,"

"Neville I can't even sit-up."

"Then your calendar is currently free – so don't get your impatient knickers in a twist - just relax why don't you," Neville said with cutting sarcasm – "this is my story to tell and I refuse to be rushed. "

"Sorry," she said but from her tone she didn't mean it …and Neville knew it.

"Anyroad; Ron was the one to come up with the idea of moving your cherry picker first boyfriend and the Lupin's down into the moon room.

"I'm sorry to interrupt again, but I hate incorrect impressions. " she said with grim determination.

"Meaning what – that Krum didn't harvest your virginity?"

"Well …yes - - he did," she admitted with great reluctance. – "But it happened two years **after** the war, when I was twenty-one. I don't want you thinking I – I …**gave it up** - at fourteen - right after the Yule Ball.

"And this matters to me – how?"

"Well you're Ron's friend and- -"

"- -and you want me to point out to him that he missed out on being your first **bunk-up** – because of his childlessness' over the brother-interview".

"Well it was his fault in a way, had he **read** my letters of explanation –wherein I told him that the - 'brother' comment - was taken out of context. Then we would have gotten together as a couple before I reconnected with Viktor - -"

"Why does that matter – you're only here to bring back Viktor, he's next to awaken and once you're both strong enough to travel - you and he can just disappear – all free and clear. It' could take as long as a month for Ron to pull him-self together and rejoin the living. Just think on it - no awkward explanations about pen-pals who were actually lovers – or - chatting-up Potter while living in a ruddy-tent …during the war - -"

"You know about that?

"And so does Ron, the Avalon coven told him everything," Neville snarled sounding as exhausted as he felt. He was running on will power alone and was in no mood for hypocrisy. "So why put yourself through all that – just collect the Bulgarian lover that you came for and spilt – before Ron returns to us".

"You think I didn't come here for Ron – or worse - you think me a coward?"

"You couldn't have known Ron would be in charge here – Rebecca wanted Potter. Oh never-mind, forget I even brought it up. Poor Ron will be emotionally crushed if you stay or run, - - do what you like – after all - who am I to offer advice on romance - after Hannah. "

"What about Rebecca? She liked you," Hermione pointed out softly.

"- - like me; yeah - - as a stooge – just one more in a long line of blokes spellbound by her looks. Had we not been locked in here – had there been other choices available – she would have picked- - "

"- - the Pub analogy, your self-fulfilling prophecy - an excuse not to try – oh yes …she told me about that", Hermione said her speech stronger; less slurred her thinking clearer with each passing minute. "But there is something you didn't take into your calculations - the random factor – **fate**. It's true I didn't expect Ron to be in charge here, but that doesn't mean I wasn't going to take full advantage of destiny dropping the love of my life into my lap.

"What?"

"I'm tired of being a Goddess on a pedestal. I'm tired of being considered infallible. If fate locked me in here with Ron – a very down to earth realist – I'm going for the gold ring. You shouldn't fight fate Neville. Rebecca told me that you are different than any bloke she's ever encountered. Knowing of your bravery at Hogwarts first hand – I can believe that.

"Then when she kissed me before she left - - "

"Wasn't a kiss off – or I should say - perhaps it's not".

"But you are not certain and I'm too ruddy tried to think about this right now. Besides speaking of Fate – a raven haired soul-mate isn't supposed to be my so-called destiny. Hannah proved that".

"Your platinum blonde baby factory,?"

"Ron told you?"

"No actually – Harry did; to lighten the mood during the Horcrux hunt," She said in a mild amused tone as she recalled hard times. "Things were awkward after I tried to see if there were- -"

"- - sparks between you," He said shaking his head sadly in regret. "It's an odd thing really – how you found the spunk to chat-up Potter - - but never found the modern feminist courage to - -"

"Tell Ron what I felt, yes I know – but I'm only human - and besides, I had a valid excuse."

"Which was?"

"Loving Ron has always – and I mean... all the way back to fourth year – scared me to death".

"In God's name - why?" he asked.

"I wanted more than what Molly Weasley had - -"

"So you chose career over love, kept him at arm's length – and for what – to climb to souring heights professionally – while living alone with a cat?" he asked sounding disappointed. "Or …are you going to have a _**one-night-stand**_ family that you are never going to have time for - and raised by Nannies like Mary Poppins"?

"To get what I thought I wanted - sacrifices had to be made".

"All or nothing - - eh?" he asked.

"Goddess Granger mucked-up …okay," she said with cutting bitterness. "Print it in the Daily Prophet every day for a week and no one will believe that I'm mortal – heaven forbid that I make mistakes. Smartest witch of our age – a national role model for witches everywhere – and frankly; I'm too big a coward to confess my sins to the man I want".

"Bullocks," he snorted.

"Neville you have no I idea how badly I've wanted to walk away from being the Great Heroine to Harry's Hero and just be an obscure …financially-struggling barrister with a tiny office above a shop – going home each-night to a loving Husband and our two red-haired children.

"You'd give up the perks of being a national hero in exchange for a quiet life with Ron?"

"In a heartbeat, - - living in a fish bowl …stinks"

"Then fate has granted you wish," Neville said sounding half-crazy and enormously pleased with himself. "Collect Ron – tell him how you feel and disappear".

"How can I - everyone knows me – I have the paparazzi following me everywhere. Even if I left the country some free-lance photojournalist would track me down". Hermione bemoaned sadly.

"Not if you're dead."

"What?"

"Rebecca feed two fatally wounded **neo-DE** a dose of _**Polyjuice potions**_ within minutes after the battle - mixed with the hair from you and Ron. That's why you're naked I'm embarrassed to say. Rebecca put your clothing on the **neo-DE** and left them to die looking like you. Your fully-clothed body with your wand in-hand was found ten yards from the now burnt ruins of the Gardener's cottage".

"Neville how could you?"

"I said **fatally **wounded - meaning they were going to die anyway". Neville said sounding very upset. "Anyway - I wasn't around to stop Rebecca. After you died – she stunned me – transfigured me into a stone and placed me out of the way".

"She did what?" she said trying not to laugh.

"She hexed me – so I wouldn't get hurt," Neville said deeply embarrassed. "Anyway; she left two _**Polyjuice **_copies of you and Ron around for the Aurors to find and transformed me back into a person and together we carried /levitated your naked mortal remains down here. Officially Hermione Jean Granger and Ronald Bilus Weasley died fighting the neo**-DE** on the Prewett estate seven days ago".

"We are **officially** dead?"

"Oh it's better than just that", Neville said highly amused. "Do you have any idea what Merlin meant when he wrote that those who use the resurrection potion would return to life at the **Cusp of adulthood**?

**OoOoOoOo **

End Trans – for now


	13. Chapter 13

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 13; entitled: **Not a Happy Camper**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction . net id# 641050

Word count: 3,125

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # one **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Authors long overdue rant /** for anyone who has read my other works will know that for the most part I don't do short chapters, I don't really do short stories, I write small novels. Even this tale is getting long in the tooth – length wise - for a HP fan-fic and I'm only half done.

I am not a professional writer; I have been called by critics; long-winded with a tendency to go off into tangents that distract from the main plot… to these charges; I plea, Guilty. I also openly admit to the gross-abuse of the King's English. If you look for perfection in writing; grammar or spelling, by all means go elsewhere. I don't claim to be anything else than a awful story teller… plain and simple

Warning; this story is thick with sexual innuendo and the discussion of sexual preferences that are unusual to say the least. This story is **rated M** for a reason …okay? I feel that JK Rowling's notion that teenagers of seventeen and eighteen have no interest in sex; is laughable.

I don't write smut or heavy fuzzy-slippers teenage first-kiss fluff so no-worries there. I do **try** to concentrate on a plot-line that takes place outside of the confines of the Hogwarts years – so if you can't read a HP tale where the characters are beyond the age of puberty - go elsewhere.

Final warning; Take a glance at the total word count; my meaning is …pop some popcorn, get a drink and relax. I've got chapters after this one; filled with subplot twists galore. So if you have a short attention span …most definitely _**go elsewhere**_ - - - - Enough said.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

"You've got to be kidding – I can't be seventeen again?" Hermione lamented

"You're not – you're just short of turning seventeen," Neville replied with a soft chuckle at Hermione's discomfort. "And the same can be said for the others. But what are you whining about – the magical world thinks of you as a twenty-five year old witch – the paparazzi have taken countless pictures of the mid-twenties heroine of the war and Potter's closest and only friend".

"I'm not his only friend – there's also Ron".

"Not to the press", Neville snorted. "And you should know better. Reporters have written him off as of no more importance to the war effort - than I was. One male and one female hero is all the mob can wrap their minds around".

"Yes - - I've noticed that", She said with deep regret.

"You may be mistaken from now on - as a younger sister of Hermione – or - a celebrity impersonator of the now deceased, highly-famous witch – but the bottom line is - no one will accuse you ever-again of being the now dead Ms. Granger. Which means - that for the most part the media should leave you alone from now on".

"But Ron,?"

"The press has ignored him for years. Your death seven days ago was front page news – whereas his wasn't even mentioned. Remember, Ron will appear to be the same age you are …when or **if** he returns to us," Neville countered. "You may be younger physically - but in experience and knowledge you haven't regressed. You are still as mature as you were at your moment of death".

"But I can't go home – can I? I can never see my parents again".

"That's true Hermione, but as I understand it – your parents never forgave you for taking away their memories".

"Yes… that's true enough," she replied sadly. "I didn't realize at the time - how offensive the concept of robbing them of their business, home and friends would be for my parents," Hermione said with heart felt regret. "I arrogantly thought I knew better than a pair of defenseless Muggle's about what was good for them – I took the decision of their safety out of their hands – without consulting them first. They are adults and yet I gave them no say in their fate".

"I take it – this decision of yours - didn't go over well with them - eh?" Neville asked. "When you found them and returned their memories".

"They were furious and have disowned me – they stayed in Australia saying I ruined forever their life back here".

"So a fresh start for you won't be half as hard as it will be for Ron?"

"Oh sweet mother of mercy, I forgot about Ron's family – they've- -"

"- - cremated his remains and scattered them to the winds," Neville interrupted. "Your remains were refused by the Grangers down-under and now lie in the hero's section of Godric Hallow cemetery next to Harry's great-great grandparents. I attended both funerals along with Lady Prewett just yesterday. Unlike your family – Ron's family took his death hard. they blame **you** for his death, by-the-way."

"Oh, that's just peachy!" Hermione exclaimed sourly.

"Potter blames him-self …naturally", Neville continued. "He thought he had more time to gather the Ministry - but he was wrong. The neo-DE attacked the same day he gave me the Livery Collar for Avalon.

"But how did you manage it?"

"Oh yes – I didn't finish my tale did I?" Neville said blushing with embarrassment. "It was during the time when Ron and I were moving Viktor's casket down to the moon room. With the Lupin's already down here it was a tight fit. Rounding the corner we bumped into a table knocking it over. It smashed into three moon lamps in the entrance, knocking out two of them. As fate would have it the Avalon collar was on the table we knocked over. When it fell over - it broke open- -"

"Broke open – I don't understand," Hermione said

"At the center of the Avalon chain of office was a compartment that opened – it normally contained the Lazarus cutting, seeds, instruction's and the three vials of the resurrection potion.

"Yes-yes …I remember - and this compartment broke open?" She asked

"Actually the clear crystal lid broke off and landed face up on-top of the sole remaining moon light still working in the entrance corner".

"And?"

"Well I thought I'd have time to fetch it later, Ron and I still had to destroy your chalkboard and were on our way to the Gatekeepers cottage when the **neo-DE** attack began".

"Was anyone killed - besides Ron and me?"

"Six Aurors and four workers on the estate were killed - not counting the **neo-DE** dead. A dozen or so wounded on both sides - including Dean Thomas and Millicent Bulstrode who personally led the defenders. From the prisoners they captured, Harry told me privately - the **neo-DE** came here primarily with two goals in mind – kill Ms. Mudge and capture you alive being one task and - -"

"- - Capture me - why?" she interrupted.

"Oh come-on, give it a good hard think – the key to the merlin Lazarus riddle has always been making sense of the instruction gibberish. Ron was spot on about that - as usual. The **neo-DE** attempt had failed miserably - although they had recruited three different ancient language experts. All three were murdered for their failure… by-the-way. The white haired witch that runs the **neo-DE** now - has little tolerance for failure, just like Voldemort – or so Harry tells me".

"Anyway - they had heard – through a suspected spy on the estate - as Harry has now repeatedly theorized to _**anyone**_ who will listen - that we were making progress – meaning **you** Hermione Jean …were making progress – your reputation as smartest witch of our age – being responsible – I suppose".

"They thought me better than several hired linguist?" Hermione said sounding genuinely amazed.

"Well duh!" Neville exclaimed with a mild chuckle. "So getting you alive - or - getting at your intact chalkboards would put them back in the lead in this Lazarus race. The **neo-DE** secondary goal was to kill the researchers they thought that really mattered and destroy our project if possible - - again on the theory that forcing Milady back to day-one would put them way ahead".

"Well yes – that's understandable – I suppose". Hermione said thoughtfully. "But the researchers that mattered comment – what does that mean exactly?"

"Basically you and Ms. Mudge; - as Ron and I were considered just unimportant manual laborers", Neville said bitterly.

"An incorrect assumption apparently," Hermione snorted sounding more and more like herself. "But the potion itself - how was that made?"

"I'm not sure I should tell that – the more who know – an all that rot."

"I'm officially dead – who can I tell?"

"Okay – good point - I imagine it's alright. Besides I have to tell someone part of this or I'll burst," Neville said sounding relieved. "Seven days ago – or - the following day - after the dust of the battle had settled – Milady came to me and asked me if I could still reassemble the two original _**Livery collars**_. I said I could and came back down-here to get the one I accidentally knocked over. All the other moon lamps had burned out otherwise I would never have noticed the words on the ceiling - as reflected through the cover crystal".

"Words what words?" Hermione asked sounding excited.

"Four long parchments worth of ancient Celtic had been magically inscribed into the crystal lid that would only be visible if moonlight was reflected from behind it. 'Under the full moon' remember – as in the 1067 translation. I even did the same trick with the Charlemagne livery collar lid and got the exact same text.

"More gibberish, I suppose," Hermione lamented sadly.

"To a simple botanist like me – most certainly – but then, I remembered Ron's notebooks on the four different languages on the outside rim of the chains of office".

"Of course, Hermione said becoming encouraged, "Hold on – why Ron's notebooks - why didn't you consult my notes … I was after all the official translator?

"You mean the ones the **neo-DE** broke in here to steal?" Neville replied

"They got all my notes?" she said stunned and worried.

"Yes-sir-reed and I hope they choke on them. That confusing pile of rubbish should drive them absolutely mental in no time at all".

"Neville?" She said in an accusatory tone - sounding more than a little hurt.

"Be honest with yourself Hermione and admit your greatest failure," Neville retorted. "Languages isn't your cup of tea – you said so yourself. Only a **Goddess** can be beyond brilliant in every single subject. And you're not infallible – right?"

"Right – I've mucked up loads of times", she said honestly.

"Anyroad, it took me twenty-four hours without sleep to translate the ancient magical Celtic using Ron's notes. They weren't encoded – _**thank god**_ – or you'd still be dead. These instructions were idiot-proof, meaning - a simple step by step method of cultivating, harvesting and distilling the flowers in three different colored potions and then finally - the methodology to administer the potion to dead people - - Which I did".

"Yes –yes but the details, I need to know the step-by-step way to - -"

"- - **No** you don't – that part I take to my grave".

"But Neville", she whined.

"BUT NOTHING – **necromancy** is a forbidden art for a damn good reason." He said with grim determination. "The fewer who know the safer it will be for all of us".

"But the livery collars covers – the secret is in there".

"And I found it by accident – have a little faith in **fate**, isn't that what you told me?" Neville insisted harshly. "The 'maker of all things' - has kept this secret from being abused for centuries - - even now… I feel as if I'm walking on broken glass with bare feet – for I have brewed enough of all three potions to bring back hundreds more than I already have. That worries me - - **a-lot**. Just think of all the dangerous power that creates - the temptation to play God – the possible corruption of my very soul".

"Yes - I see what you mean".

"I've had five days alone to think about this – and I've concluded that we **seven** – a magical number by the way …have been chosen by destiny to be the **new guardians** of the already made resurrection potion. I propose that we let the two covens conduct an ongoing battle with the **neo-DE** over the Livery Collars - - as a cover for us guarding the real thing. If I'm right …fate will let them fight it out for centuries – researching forever - for all the good it will do them".

"You've returned the two collars already",

"Yes on day three of your afterlife".

"So you think that destiny arranged all this?"

"Or divine providence if you're religious – and why not, - - we can resurrect the _**once and future King **_and_** the Holy Roman Emperor**_ without the help of either publicly-outted coven - and wasn't that the main-purpose of this pet project. That's what destiny truly wanted from us. Viktor Krum, the Lupin's you and Ron is the payoff for a job well done – I'd say".

"You've really thought this out – haven't you?" She said greatly impressed.

"Milady has been heavily censured by her ungrateful order over our failure – even though Milady was responsible for the retrieval of the Charlemagne Livery collar - - - besides; I have no intention to play god. Death has dominion – it will claim us all in the end as it's meant too. I say we keep just enough to bring back Arthur, Charlemagne and their knight's and pour the rest down the drain".

"But your parents and Gran - -"

"- - NO MORE BRINGING BACK THE DEAD; Hermione - - once that 'UNNATURAL' snowball starts downhill they'll be no end to it. As it is …to keep this secret – well - we are all going to have to disappear forever. As Ron's second in command on this project - - I envision three couples – each with a batch of the 'kings return' potion with you and Ron being set number one, - **if** that's who you are choosing – this time?"

Hermione nodded in the affirmative - while she frowned hard at Neville; upset that he still doubted her.

"Then there will Remus and Nymphadora and Rebecca and Viktor. I propose we send forth each couple with a spare set of potion for the two kings - in case yours gets destroyed. All of us must go as far away from Europe proper as we can, to get-away from the battle the **neo-DE** and the two covens will be fighting. No one must ever know we succeeded".

"And what about you – the odd bloke out,?"

"I know too much, obviously. I'll stay around here as the sole survivor of our Lazarus team - and clean-up any traces of what we've done - and to settle my affairs here. Then I'll go to America or New Zealand and start a new life under a new name. Milady will think I'm doing it for a fresh start romantically – which is better than staying around here and she'll be right ...in a way.

"Success sometimes comes with as high a price as failure," Hermione half-mumbled.

"You speak more wisdom than you know – regretfully. Just always keep in mind while suffering in your forced exile – that Ron will take the news of **not** being able to see his family **ever-again** as hard if not harder than the Lupin's with take their permanent separation from Teddy. It will be your job to make sure being with you is worth the cost of losing his family.

"Yes that true, it will apply to Harry as well - he can't know either," She said thinking Hard - - "Oh Neville …by-the-way, Can I get some clothing, I can't go about wearing just a sheet."

"About that," Neville replied - once again deeply embarrassed. "I was so busy translating and making the potion I forgot that you and Ron were naked. By the time I remembered your other clothing in the Gatehouse cottage had been packed-up and donated to a travelling museum dedicated to the Voldemort War with all proceeds going to charity.

"**What**?" Hermione screamed …totally outraged.

**OoOoOoOo**

End Trans – for now


	14. Chapter 14

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 14; entitled: **While you were Sleeping**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - Fanfiction . net id# 641050

Word count: 1,927

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our few readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

Twelve days after her death in battle, Hermione was getting stronger every day, relearning how to walk or even to sit up hadn't been easy for her - but she managed. She had clothing again, although acquiring them had cost her in a setback in her recovery. She had written Neville a check for eight thousand galleons on her account in Gringotts banking on the theory that the ever-fumbling bureaucratic Ministry had not gotten around to freeze the assets of a Muggelborn dead witch. The goblins after magically confirming that the entire check and signature had been written in Hermione's own handwriting - turned over to Neville four/fifths of Hermione's wealth in Muggle money.

Now that she had her money back - Neville's next trip was to Hermione's apartment in the Muggle section of London called _**Nothing Hill**_. Here again the executor of Hermione's estate – Harry Potter – was too overcome with grief to even visit his deceased friend's flat. The idea being too painful for Harry actually worked in Neville's favor as he was already on her _**permitted entry list**_ for her floo network as her client for legal matters.

888 OoOoOoOo **Flashback begins,**

With a flash of flames they had appeared - - Neville heavily supporting a very weak Hermione wearing one of Neville's old jumpers and nothing else. Neville being quite tall the jumper was long enough on the far shorter Hermione to act as a mini-dress by reaching down to half-way between her crotch and knee.

They left two hours later, with several boxes worth of her most-rare out of print books and two suitcases worth of personal items and clothing – intended to replace what had burned in the Gatehouse fire during the battle. The actual packing was done in about twenty minutes - with the rest of the time spent arranging things so it looked as if nothing had been taken.

Crookshanks had passed away two years prior so there was no pet to worry about and after quickly becoming exhausted (after about five minutes inside) Hermione was reduced to sitting on her bed and reading off a list of items she wanted Neville to find. Neville then shrunk down their booty and stuffed the-lot into his jacket pocket. Hermione once again properly dressed – half nagged and half-insisted that Neville half-drag – half carry her to a nearby hairdresser just down the lane to have her head shaved of nearly ninety percent of her hair.

Neville objected strongly to his barristers new _**steam-punk**_ disguise, telling her it was:"

"Believe me Hermione – you didn't have to cut your hair so short, no one is going to recognize the younger-you".

"We can't afford for me to be recognized; Neville – too much is at stake - - and you must admit my current punk rocker look with thickly overdone makeup - is as far removed from the overly conservative look I use to fancy - as to throw anyone off the track".

"Ron's going to hate it – just saying," Neville said throwing his hands up in surrender as Hermione frowned up at him from the wheelchair that Neville had transfigured from a pile of scrap mental abandoned in a _**Portobello Road**_ alleyway.

"Neville?" a familiar voice asked from behind him – and spinning around - he saw a young woman approaching them fast; it was **Katie Bell** - another Hogwarts war veteran and an original member of Dumbledore's Army.

"Hello Katie, what brings you to this part of London?" Neville said nervously while stepping in front of Hermione to hide her… a stratagem that did not go unnoticed by Katie.

"I could say the same for you, and don't be rude – introduce me to your - _**extra young**_ - lady friend," Katie said raising an eyebrow - her entire attitude silently screaming - 'jailbait …crib-robber'

"Hello," Hermione said reaching out a hand to shake Katie's. "My name is Pauline Fossil - and you are?

"Katie – Katie Bell …an old friend of Neville's from school. And how did you injure yourself - my dear child - nothing serious I hope?"- She asked giving extra emphases to the word **child** while giving Neville a sternly disapproving glare.

"I took a bad step in my Ballet Shoes and twisted my ankle something awful. It should be mended in time for the Prom – don't you think Nev-ie dear?" Hermione said smiling big up at Neville.

"You're dating her?" Katie said to Neville - her tone clearly accusatory.

"**NO** – of course not," Neville retorted hotly while glaring hotly - at the innocent looking Hermione.

Katie was going to say something – thought better of it and bit her tongue instead – before abruptly turning around and without another word - - storming off.

"Are you proud of yourself?" - Neville asked …feeling deeply humiliated.

"I think that went rather well, actually." Hermione said smugly.

"You lied to her? I knew barristers lied in court – but this was way over the top," Neville said in an extremely embarrassed tone.

"Being Harry Potter's friend - meant I learned to lie convincingly early on," Hermione said remembering fondly – "first year in fact, Halloween feast".

"Do you also remember that Katie Bell was a huge gossip at Hogwarts? By this time tomorrow everyone we know will think I'm robbing the cradle for dates."

"True – what is the male equitant to a **cougar**? Sugar-daddy… perhaps,?" Hermione said chuckling softly.

"This isn't funny,"

"Oh yes it is – can you imagine Hannah's face when she hears. Wizarding Britain is a small community after all. - - Please Neville – don't be upset with me. I needed a laugh something awful. You're planning on leaving England for good anyway; consider what I just did as a parting shot at that horrid cheating-sow".

888 OoOoOoOo; **end flashback**

Hermione slept the clock around after she got back for their little outing. Exhausted beyond words and yet comforted to have some of her things back. Neville had thoughtfully brought the wheelchair back with them to their underground sanctuary and Hermione used it to get around while Neville supervised the magical reconstruction of the two ruined Greenhouses over her head. She divided her day between watching the final stages of the phase two blue potion in regards to a dimly (glowing blue) Viktor - reading Ron's surprisingly detailed notebooks - and sitting by the phase one potion repair of Ron's torn-asundered body.

The first potion was a yellow liquid - the same color as the flower it came from - and it reflected the color of the bright magical solid glow that surrounded Ron's naked body. The two halves were semi-attached now …with the brightest glow of harshist yellow being at the point of the slash.

OoOoOoOo

One of the oddities which Neville had no explanation for - was the fact - that Victor's body (also devoid of its rotting clothing) and lying under a cloth shroud as she once had, - displaying all the pipe-cleaner thinness of a pre-seventeen year-old… - or - as he must have looked **prior** to _**bulking-up**_ into the world-class Quidditch player that Hermione had met two years later - when Viktor was nineteen.

**Ron** appearance on the other hand – was way different, as his reforming body had muscles that Hermione didn't remember on his seventeen… sixth-year form –or – the bloke he was some twenty-four hours before he died. Over six feet … his naked form was now - downright yummy. His physics was beyond body-builder attractive and hung like a bull - _**for yes**_, she peeked under the shroud – and more than once too.

In comparison - even Remus had reverted to his lanky half-starved teenage appearance - as if he was in the middle of a late growth spurt. Meanwhile Tonks looked a lot like Hermione did - as reflected in a hand mirror - - Skinny and blessed with a fair sized set of teats – compared to the mere buds of a developing bosom that Hermione boasted at seventeen.

Hermione seeing how different Ron was to the other male test subjects - - repeated pumped Neville for information the poor man didn't have. Finally exasperated Neville exclaimed; "I honestly don't know why; Hermione – but how about this theory? Ron died a martyr's death – sacrificing his life to save yours – in the finest tradition of a Knight-errant of the Arthurian legend and a poor rejected - unrequited lover. Perhaps the fates or the _**powers above**_ have decided that his reforming body should reflect his inner Sir Bedivere nature.

"Ron …a modern **Sir Bedivere**,? Now that's the silliest thing I've ever heard," Hermione had said chuckling. "I've read Ron's detailed notes on the Arthur myth and I'll grant you that Ron was loyal to Harry from the beginning to end - just as Sir Bedivere was with Arthur Pendragon. But Ron was always too grounded – too often put his foot in his mouth – to be as saintly and pure as Sir Bedivere was. - - Besides - - Bedivere never 'deserted' Arthur – now did he?"

You're never going to forgive him for that – are you? Who knows – maybe the qualifications of a Knight-errant have changed over the centuries. Anyway - all of Arthurs knights went through several trials and temptations - - oh never mind, come up with your own explanation. But in our quest for the Grail of Kingly resurrection – if you're honest with your-self … who else would you cast in the role of **Knight Errant**?"

Hermione then became silent and thoughtful – and went away without giving Neville an answer.

OoOoOoOo

End Trans – for now

**AN/** a real short chapter for a change - but you've had three chapters this week - so don't complain. Please review – rattle your cage – throw food – or do something – just so that I know you're still there?


	15. Chapter 15

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 15; entitled: **Viktor Hugo Krum**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 2,642

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**Mostly Hermione's POV**

**OoOoOoOo**

There were only two things that Neville wouldn't budge on – no matter how long or hard she bedeviled, bullied, harassed, nagged or pleaded. One was) How he made the Lazarus plant flower and secondly) what were the ingredients that made-up …the resurrection's three very different potions. The livery Collars had been returned to their original owners - and no trace remained (that Hermione could find by snooping-around Neville's papers and things) of a copy of the ancient Celtic inscribed in the inner lid – or - Neville's translation of its meaning. Neville had called her out over her snooping – warning her that fate would punisher her for curiosity _**killed the cat**_ nature – but Hermione just snorted at the idea and kept right on searching for the information she desired.

Frustrated beyond words to describe – Hermione with her desire for knowledge never-fading was reduced to merely observing the effects of the three potions on the test subjects. As she was not 'alive' at the time to see the giving of the first yellow potion to the others; she was involuntarily restricted to taking notes on its effect on Ron – the only 'test subject' still in the yellow phase-one. That her 'research' required her to spend long hours sitting next to his wooden table slab – and observing closely - out of all proportions to her time spent in observations of Krum or the Lupin's – which was a source of never-ending mild amusement for Neville.

Not that the regeneration of decaying tissue and muscle mass wasn't fascinating to watch, it was. She was reminded of special-effects she had seen in Australia - while watching the 1999 Muggle cinema feature _**The Mummy. **_The literal regrowth onto bare bone of warm living flesh was amazing and seeing this all came about – half way through the process with Remus and Tonks and near the end of Phase two with Viktor …was well worth her time.

She did not deny to Neville that the anxiety she felt over Ron's snail-like progress easily outpaced considerably her fears that the potions would not work on the far longer dead Krum and Lupin's. With each hour that passed the speed of the regeneration was clear-as-day visible on the Lupin's - while agonizing-slow with the mending of Ron.

Then one day as Viktor's blue glow was clearly dimming – his chest abruptly started moving, meaning he was breathing on his own - once again. A clear as crystal indicator according to Neville - that the second phase process was nearing completion. When the blue glow faded completely and the subject appeared whole and merely in a deep-deep sleep - that meant that the patient was ready for the last …**red potion** – **or** – the return of the soul.

By day eighteen after her death, Hermione had to look hard indeed to see any changes/improvements in Viktor's physique. She was somewhat surprised to see how scrawny Viktor looked at the start of his career as a Durmstrang Quidditch player and because of it – she now heavily suspected that **very-illegal** athletic level steroids had been employed within the Bulgarian international team – or - even before while he was a member of the Durmstrang school squad resulting in Viktor's unnatural muscular development.

Neville did not insist that Hermione leave the room when that very afternoon he carefully removed out-of a small wooden box - a tiny red bottle with a dropper screwed on the top. Three drops Neville guided into Viktor's mouth – and then one drop each on his hands and feet – for a total of seven. The glowing red liquid was quickly absorbed into the skin and once the glow at the extremities faded - Neville took two-or-three big steps back, dragging Hermione back with him by the hand.

"You don't want to be too close during the next bit."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

Suddenly the body began convulsing and shaking – like the victim of a violent epileptic fit. Viktor arched his back - while opening his mouth extra wide - to silently scream in wordless agony. Hermione wanted to rush in to help but Neville held her back. Instead he drew Hermione's attention to a tiny cloud of grey mist forming at the peak of the concrete ceiling. It resembled a miniature thunder storm - complete with lightning.

Hermione stunned motionless - watched in dumbfounded disbelief as this mist was drawn down slowly - resisting every inch of the way – as if _**dragged**_ toward Viktor's open mouth. At that moment – Hermione suddenly remembered the manner in which a Dementor on the Hogwarts express seemed to suck the happiness in mist form out of Harry's mouth. And it accrued to her; that she was watching a fatal Dementor's kiss… in reverse.

The visible soul was being forced back – from who knows where – into the empty living-shell of Viktor Krum. The sight was both horrifying and beautiful at the same time – for Hermione realized that the same event had happened to her – eleven days before.

When the "soul-mist", as Hermione described it in her personal notes sometime later-on; was sucked back into Viktor's gapping mouth – then the lips closed as if taking a huge bite – and then after a brief pause – the body collapsed back down on the wooden table in a jumble of arms and limbs. He was still breathing – the flesh was now warm to the touch, with normal healthy color coming abruptly back to the skin.

"Now what?" Hermione asked is a soft reverent whisper.

"We wait for him to wake-up," Neville replied in astonishment over this second witnessed miracle in under a month.

"How long with that take,?" She asked impatiently.

"I don't honestly know – another detail that Merlin was kind-of vague about," Neville confessed without hesitation or evasion. "With someone freshly dead – as you were, all three processes took only a few days. But then again – your body hadn't had but a hundred odd hours to decompose. Krum's return had been slower because his remains had been in the ground three years".

"Yes I can understand that," she said in obvious eagerness.

"Keep in mind that all subjects – including you - were administered potion one – the yellow flower on the same day", Neville explained.

"But Ron is still in phase one?" She said sounding deeply worried.

"Hermione – I've re-read the instructions a dozen times, and Merlin's original test subjected had been more completely dismembered than Ron was. I've repeated his instructions successfully twice already. Have a little faith in me".

"I'm not doubting-you; Neville I'm just worried".

"You think I'm not?" Neville replied short-tempered. "I just wish I could get a good hard look at Arthurs Knights".

"Why"

"Ron was no six stone weakling when he died" (**AN/** 90 lbs.)

"When he was alive - he had some muscle to him – not this much of course. Although with all the demands on your intellectual pursuits I doubt you noticed." He joked.

"Oh I noticed – and stop behaving like a Prat - - you git". She said with a nervous smile

"Well anyroad – the potion I think you'll agree - is doing more to him - than just turning back the clock to seventeen." He said.

"He's built like a tank – with the physique of a body-builder cinema star – your point being?" She said impatiently.

"Well – heck – you already heard my theory and shot it to pieces. But I agree – he's built like a human tank – all he lacks is ten odd stone of _**armor, sword and lance**_." (**AN;** 150 odd lbs. of plate steel)

"Not the Knight errant thing again?" Hermione moaned infuriated.

"Forget it – come-up with your own explanation for the modern Hercules the potion is making out of him. Right now I'd say - he has the body to support the weight of plate armor – - - but I could be dead wrong about this – after all – I don't have to be brilliant on every subject like a demi-god. I'm just a simple gardener," Neville snarled back.

"I'm sure you know as I do that Arthur's Knights were just extra-strong Muggle's – Ron on the other hand was a wizard too. Perhaps your brilliant mind can theorize to the possibly that Ron's unusable increase in physical strength compared to the others - might correspond with an increase in his magic as well -eh?"

Hermione's eyes went wide in shock – for clearly that thought had not crossed his mind.

**OoOoOoOo **

The next few days Hermione got little if any sleep. She could walk now for short distances and spent the daylight hours trying to be as silent as a mouse in spite of all the muffling charms that Neville had daily put on the moon room. Such steps being necessary because the magical construction teams were rebuilding greenhouse one - - directly over her head. She alternated her awake-time in-between sitting next to Ron's slab and Viktor's. The Bulgarian no longer 'magically glowed' in any color and appeared asleep as well as very much alive.

Looking at him stretched out on his hard wood slab Hermione felt an emotional tug in his direction for they had shared a history as a couple. He had been her first lover and she was genuinely fond of him but - **and** with Viktor there always was a - **BUT** - because she now knew in the deepest part of her soul – that their differences would make living with him long-term …impossible. They didn't fit – in spite of how hard they had tried to make it work.

And yet …Hermione still had lingering guilt issues over how much their final break-up had contributed to his suicide. Now some three years after Viktor's death and Hermione was once again drawn into the lives of the two most important men in her young life. Polar opposites in their views on personal responsibility; Hermione at twenty-five had never really understood Viktor's addition to the celebrity non-stop parties lifestyle.

Ron and his work ethic was more of a soul-mate for hers - than Viktor had ever been on his best day. Single handed he had held George together after Fred's death - and while running his brothers business had found his niche in business management. She couldn't help but be impressed by his appearance in court – he was so serious and business like – all grown-up …it made Hermione shudder in arousal just thinking about it. That's not to say that Ron didn't like to have fun and party - but there were appropriate times and places for such leisure activities. Ron at twenty-four had clearly understood that principal - whereas Viktor had been very-much a party-animal …mere weeks before his fair weather celebrity friends had turned on him – and in deep dispair had taken his own life.

Now Ron and Viktor shared the moon room within meters of one another – the only things they had ever shared in common was a love of Quidditch and an unshakable conviction that she would be better off with their romantic rival.

"_Neville's pub analogy was partially rubbish,"_ Hermione said to her-self. "_But he had one thing spot-on, in the end it was the woman who had the final decision over who she settled-down with_". Hermione had sown her wild oats in the dating scene - tested the waters with a number of other blokes – mostly blind date disasters that had not achieved a second date. "_I'm pushing twenty-six it was crunch time – the nesting urge_ '… she thought - - '_No …hold on, - I'm pushing seventeen …not twenty six_, my body is - - - _Sweet mother of Merlin - am I a physically a virgin again? _

The ramification of having a twenty five consciousness incased inside a seventeen year old body tormented her mind as she sat next to Krum waiting for the moment when he would awake - - Every fifteen minutes or so, she would check on Ron - but she didn't want to miss the moment when Viktor woke-up either. Her intellect wanted to take notes on Viktor's return to the living - while her heart was firmly with Ron at the far end of the moon room.

Ron's entire body still-glowed a bright yellow color – but by day twenty - his two body sections were finally reunited - as if wielded back together, with a nasty looking scar that was slowly fading …a scar that still smoldered a harsh golden-yellow color.

Peeking under Ron's cotton sheet shroud earlier that week - Hermione finally noticed that the chest scars Ron had gotten during their Department of mysteries adventure - were missing - as well as the scar from spinching after the Ministry escape eight years ago. Also missing were the other minor 'skin dents' that an active boy growing-up with six siblings can acquire. How had she missed that? Ron had mentioned these other childhood scars in passing to Harry in the common room during sixth-year …while Hermione had her nose in a book - half suspecting that she hadn't heard him. Little did he know that Hermione had remembered everything he had ever said?

Now eight years later, she was getting a hands-on chance to examine at magnifying-glass close… the naked flesh of an almost boyfriend. Neville had caught her several times with her nose inches away from his navel watching Ron flesh rejoin - wondering if her interest was still only clinical.

OoOoOoOo

She sat in her wheelchair – which was more comfortable than a wooden stool - with her mind a million kilometers away – trying to wrap her intellect around her new reality as a seventeen year old virgin - when she half-heard

"Hermy-own"

"It's Her-my-oh-nee …how many times must I tell you." She said automatically only half listening.

"Herm-own-ninny"

"Better …but you still don't quite have it," she began and then suddenly froze in mid-thought. Slowly she turned her gaze down and saw him looking up at her with total love in his eyes.

"**Viktor**?"

OoOoOoOo

**End Trans - - for** now


	16. Chapter 16

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter 16; entitled: **This, that and the other thing**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 3,143

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

There was the sharp odor of fresh paint that surrounded him as he worked. So intense was the fumes that he had propped open all the windows in spite of the chill in the autumn air. And still he was nearly overcome by it. But frankly – he could not put off this task any longer and the flowers buds he was franticly planting and then hexing with a fast growth spell weren't affected by the smell at all.

The sounds of magical construction from the nearby greenhouse number one were loud enough for him to use a muffling spell on his ears. "_Loud enough to wake the dead_" he said to himself chuckling at his own lame attempt at humor. He had put the strongest muffling charm he knew on the moon room to protect Hermione's hearing but there was only so much he could do.

So occupied by what he was doing, Neville never heard the approach of the wizard until he was tapped on the shoulder. Looking up he saw Harry Potter leaning over shouting something while using both hands to cover his ears. Standing-up Neville gestured to the door and it wasn't until they stood near the burnt to the ground ruins of the stables some twenty odd yards from the greenhouses that either wizard could hear themselves think.

"I had no idea that magical construction was so ruddy loud," Harry said shaking his head to clear it of an odd buzzing sound.

"Magical construction has its drawbacks, Harry," Neville replied. "It's a hundred times faster than the Muggle alternative but it's also five hundred times louder. Milady Prewett wants her signature roses back ASAP - - as-in yesterday – thus the rush job on the repairs. Actually I'm glad that you interrupted me I was getting light-headed from the fumes."

"You don't have to work for her anymore, you-know …your indenture died when Ron did," Harry said wincing at the memory of the loss of his best male friend.

"If I learned anything from working for Ron – it was his deep sense of responsibility". Neville replied softly. "I doubt he would have walked away from Milady's ruined greenhouses without setting them right first. Besides I'm getting a hefty bonus doing this. So – do you have more questions for me - **Auror Potter**?"

"This isn't an official visit, as the Ministry doesn't think that a –a - - -"

"- - a gardener, you can say it Harry, I'm not offended by the term. Neville replied feeling not the least bit wounded. "That is all I am here – a very well paid gardener, an expert on exotic flora, its cultivation and cross-pollinating. So the ministry has concluded that I knew the least of the four of us on – on …this project?"

"The resurrection potion - - Yes that's true enough." Harry replied far too causally for Neville's' liking - a disappointing indication that the knowledge of the existence of a means to bring back the dead was spreading.

"My trip out here is more of a personal quest for closure". Harry said sadly.

"Which means I suppose you want to know - whether or not - Ron ever reconciled with Hermione – with the body of Vicky decomposing under the place where he lived – above the stables?"

"You know more than I expected," Harry said mildly surprised.

"I was second in command under Ron – I'm sure Milady told you that. I wasn't a-part of the translation process – as I've already told you – several times. Translating Roman Anglo-Saxon Latin was way above my limited field of Herbalogical expertise - **but** - I was briefed by Milady on the potential personality conflict issues".

"And did they?"

"Get back together? I'm not sure –really," Neville said not wanting to lie to anyone. Withholding some vital facts was one thing – an outright lie was another. "We weren't together long enough before the **neo-DE** attack for me to be one hundred percent certain - and I'm guessing that **certainly** is what you're looking for here".

"Their bodies were found within a few feet of each other," Harry said sounding deeply emotional. "We lived through the entire war - only to have the pair of them die over some stupid plant. It's just not fair."

"Who told-you …that life was **fair**, Harry" - Neville asked. "It certainly wasn't Dumbledore. But getting back to your friends – when they first were reunited here - they argued non-stop, just like old times" - -.

Harry smiled at the thought.

"- - but as time passed they yelled less and discussed more," Neville continued. "I don't know if this will give you any comfort but - when I returned from Milady with the news we were being shut-down. As they entered the kitchen I saw Ron's arm wrapped around Hermione's waist".

"Really?" Harry said smiling sadly - his hopes soring to the sky.

"I didn't see them snog each other senseless **mind-you**, - but his arm was wrapped behind her body with his hand rather possessively on her hip. Now keep in mind I could be wrong about this …what it meant that is – after Hannah; I consider myself utterly clueless to all signs of romance – or marital infidelity.

"About Hannah, I'm sorry that I wasn't - - of more help."

"I could say the same about Ron and Hermione right now? If there is life after death for them - who knows if Hermione will chose Ron - or – turn to her old flame Viktor Krum. After all – time and again she chose **your needs** over Ron's. I guess after a while he got used to being of lesser priority than you with her."

"How did you know that?" Harry said nearly gob-smacked.

"For Merlin's sake Harry, don't you remember?" Neville said now sounding frustrated. "We were all of the same year, - all Gryffindor's, all shared the same dorm. Don't you remember the night I threw Ron a galleon so he could buy him-self a clue. I wasn't blind, deaf and dumb back then - about the three of you. I have seen too many times first-hand …how she obsessed **on you** – while being totally neglectful of him. By all rights she should have been **your woman** from fifth year onward".

"She wasn't my type," he replied sounding more than a little ashamed.

"Oh really and what is your type?" Neville said very short tempered, taking out his non-stop frustration on Harry. Since Rebecca had left - - he had been under a lot of pressure, but that wasn't the whole truth. He missed the raven haired witch, more than he could say. There was now a hole in his heart – an empty space that Rebecca had once filled – a hole he feared would never be filled again.

"What gotten into you Neville?" Harry asked more than a little taken aback by Neville belligerence.

"Let's just say that you're not the only one feeling a sense of loss these days. I lost something priceless to me during the battle here – a confidant that I fear I'll never be able to replace," Neville said with the mental image of Rebecca smiling back at him clear in his inner eye. God he was in love again - - and she was gone forever.

"Yes, Ron was one in a million and totally irreplaceable." Harry said jumping to the wrong conclusion with regret. Neville jolted out of his inner contemplations by Harry's reply - gathered his composure before asking.

"Have you caught the bastards?"

"The **neo-DE** who killed them; - **NO** - …god damnit". Harry growled as his anger supplanting instantly his grief. "We've caught loads of the foot soldiers - but not the leadership. And while on the subject - - I sincerely hope that the platinum blonde death-eater you had dreams about during sixth-year… **isn't** the current leader of the **neo-DE. **

"A piece of work – eh?" Neville asked.

"You have no idea," Harry replied with a shudder of dread. "She's said to be beyond beautiful – the sexiest thing on two legs and-yet … far deadlier than the most cold-blooded of snakes. Part of the reason people feared Voldemort was his 'non-human' appearance. The white blonde that controls the **neo-DE** is very-very human, almost a combination of a Veela and a succubus in the sexual way she controls her closest Lieutenants. The Ministry is actually investigating her use of tantric sex magic as a means of control. Don't repeat this to anyone - but some of the prisoners we taken – have told us of wand battles conducted by her subordinates just to gain her favor - - her sexual favors – that is".

"She uses sex to control her followers – like Cleopatra?"

"Only with her top lieutenants, but here is the real shocker", Harry said pausing slightly for effect. "The Auror department has reason to believe that this **neo-DE** leader is actually a Hermaphrodite."

"A what?"

"A drop-dead gorgeous switch hitter - with all the **equipment; **to go both ways – sexually," Harry said with the look of disgust on his face unmistakable.

"How – what… that's just sick?"

"Some of her top lieutenants are women."

"Thanks loads for that mental image – I'll have nightmares for weeks …after this". he spat as Harry laughed softly at Neville's expense. "Let's change the subject – shall we? Have you heard any rumors about whether the two covens have resumed their Lazarus research?"

"Admit it – you want to hear about Ms. Mudge," Harry replied still smiling a little. "Well I hate to disappoint but she has dropped off the face of the earth. She walked away from our safe house after the second **neo-DE** attempt to murder her. Since then the **neo-DE** has put an open contract of ten thousand galleons on Ms. Mudge head – dead or alive …mostly they want her dead …I guess and - -"

"Ten Thousand - - **dead**,?"

"Yup, apparently the Death Eaters don't fancy betrayers – any more than I do," Harry snorted.

"She helped you, - with information,- your raid in Wales?" Neville said sounding scandalized.

"Traitors have their uses; Neville – but it's dangerous to trust them too much." Harry retorted heatedly.

"What about Severus Snape?" Neville countered.

"There are exceptions …of course; Snape was a hero as a double agent, he played a dangerous game for years without thought of profit. Ms. Mudge on the other hand …was clearly just an opportunist – selling her …**services** to whomever would pay her price.

"You mean Viktor".

"Yes". And with Krum's body destroyed along with the Lupin's during the attack, I'm not surprised that she vanished – **if **that was her genuine motivation. Neither coven trusted her, - I didn't trust her – I'll bet my entire bank account that Ron didn't either - - and you're a bigger fool than I always thought you were - if you did".

"And Hermione?"

"Hermione was an odd duck at the best of times, a dear friend …almost an annoying sister figure to me as we grew-up. – An arrogant and brilliant witch that I had trouble many-many times - understanding", Harry said with surprising candor. "Whether or not she trusted Mudge is unknown, but I hope not".

"How long ago did Rebecca walk away from Ministry protection?" Neville asked in a worried tone.

"Two days short of a fortnight ago – why do you ask?" Harry said staring hard at the spot his two closest friends had died.

"She is an ally – someone who risked all to help you crush the **neo-DE** reforming here in England. Honestly Harry - you didn't use to be so callus about people," Neville said deeply disappointed - and then he noticed where Harry was looking - and an odd thought accrued to him. "You blame Rebecca for Ron and Hermione – don't you?"

"I regret ever letting that …that – frigen witch into my office – she cost me everything," Harry lamented. "I wish she had stayed a **neo-DE."**

"If Rebecca had done that - we'd be fighting Voldemort and his entire crew - all over again. Is that what you really want?"

"**Yes –No** …oh bloody hell – I don't know. I miss them …loads, Neville. "

"They died fighting Death Eaters, not all that bad way to go – I'd say." Neville replied – hating himself for deceiving an old dorm-mate. "_Damn keeping these ruddy secrets from friends_". He said to himself. "_I've got to get away from here_".

OoOoOoOo

"Master – master; you are summoned," a tiny male house-elf squeaked in an excited little voice as it 'popped' into existence within two feet of his master .

"Summoned by whom, Renee?"

"Big lady that have many-many house-elves working for her,"

"I'll let you go, Neville - - thanks for the closure," Harry said and a moment later he turned on the spot and disaperated. With Potter gone Neville turn his full attention on his house-elf.

"Lady Prewett. Do you know what she wants?" Neville asked while squatting down to be on eye level with his elf. It was a sign of respect that he had learned from Ron and from the glow of appreciation he saw on his elves faces, the gesture was paying major dividends in elf loyalty.

"Yes master – she said your wife has come to collect you. Are we moving - master?"

**OoOoOoOo**

Neville entered the Prewett main Manor a very confused and determined young man on a mission. Milady had assured him right after the battle that his divorce was in its final stage. He was said to be only a formality signature away - from being a free man. "_Hannah couldn't still be stalling again – could she?_" he asked himself as he approached Lady Prewett's office.

Waiting patiently at the door was Millicent Bulstrode the chief warden of Milady's primary home. "Hello Neville".

"Hello Millicent, fully recovered I see". He said in way of greeting.

"Yes I am thank-you. And you came in through the kitchens didn't you?" she asked highly amused.

"Of course - the servant entrance is where a servant should enter," He countered as Ron always did to that question – "now what is this bullock about my wife being here? What does Hannah want now?"

"So-much for polite pleasantries – straight to the point – I like that. So straight to it - this summons has nothing to do with your former wife – now legally an Abbott once again – well for at least the last fortnight anyway – and everything to do with your **new** spouse.

"New – **what**?" he asked stunned.

"Really Neville – I'm hurt, I thought that Dean and I were your best-friends now." Millicent **loudly** pouted for the benefit of anyone discretely listening in. "I understand your desire for the wedding to be small and low-key - what with the divorce so recently finalized - but an invite for me and Dean to the reception would have been - -"

"- - Millicent, hold-on a second," Neville interrupted in a semi-gob smacked soft voice. "You and Dean have both become true-blue …best-mates to me – the best I've had since Hogwarts. You've both been beyond helpful in getting me sorted out after the battle. Dean helped me replace my destroyed wardrobe after the fire the neo-DE set. He even let me bunk with him for a-bit, since the battle burned the Gardener's cottage down to its foundation. You took extra pains to help me arrange and carry-out the repairs to the Gatehouse/greenhouse complex. For honestly - I have few if any managerial skills".

"Thanks – it's nice to have my efforts acknowledged", Millicent said happily.

"But this-time, my dear **friend"**, Neville said giving extra empathize to the word friend. "I'm beyond confused about what you're going on about here. "Believe me when I say that I have **not married anyone**."

"Oh Neville, stop **lying** to me – I've seen the marriage certificate," Millicent said overly loud. "I've seen the goblin form authorizing the change of your business account to reflect your wife name being added as co-owner of L&W ltd."

"Co-owner?" Neville said in a semi-whisper having been rendered almost speechless by this news.

"Come Neville, Milady is waiting," she said sympathetically - and gently taking his hand Millicent guided a totally gob-smacked botanist through the door she had just opened. Inside was Muriel Prewett who sat behind her desk closely examining the papers on her desk with a magnifying glass?

OoOoOoOo **End Trans** – for now


	17. Chapter 17

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter **17**; entitled: **Cross-pollinating a Botanist**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 2,463

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning # **; I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo **

"I must say this is quite excellent, I've never seen a better forgery", Muriel said in obvious admiration as she put down the magnifying glass and looked up.

"Oh it's not a forgery, there is a copy of this legally filed with the Ministry". Said a woman sitting in a high-backed chair that was turned away from the door – thus those just entering could not see the woman's face. A steaming cuppa of tea sat on an elegant wooden end-table, magiced into place for the comfort of an important guest – who was clearly used to the finer things in life. Her flawless upper-crust accent bespoke – no – it screamed that here was a female of the highest elite of British Nobility.

"The imperious curse,?"Muriel asked politely clearly inquiring into the methodology.

"Oh heavens no – there are detection spell throughout the Ministry to prevent such a crime. I just put all my 'assets' on display and pretended to be the stereotypical brainless blonde newlywed wanting to file her marriage certificate without her new husband being present".

"But that's unlawful"

"Yes I know - the overly-randy ...one hundred and thirty-nine year-old bureaucratic clerk in the records office pointed that out – so I pouted a bit and teared–up, breathed heavily for a minute or two and then by slowly leaning forward in a low cut top - and he became – -"

"- - Putty in your hands". Neville finished from the door. "Rebecca?" he asked softly fearful that he was wrong. Lady Prewett looked at him and instantly dashed his hopes.

"There is no-one named Mudge in this room Mr. Longbottom. Actually - you're early - stay where you are, until I finish my interview with Becca", Muriel said sternly. "Millicent did you part go as planned?"

"Yes Madam, if the spy was listening in the hall, he or she can confirm the much rumored about Longbottom marriage," Millicent said with a evil sounding chuckle. "Sorry Neville – to make this deception believable we have had to tell a few white lies" - - me just now in the outside hallway - and Dean down at the local Wizarding Pub, loudly toasting your '_**no longer secret**_**'** nuptials.

"Deception – nuptials – what's going on?" Neville asked nervously.

"A Nuptials rumor will nicely offset all the other gossips flying around everywhere that a wizard of twenty-four is dating a fourteen year old **child** – eh? Millicent said sounding disappointed. "Who you date is none of my business, of course - - but if you were so desperate as to consider robbing the cradle. I would have hooked you up with one of my old Slytherin dorm-mates. Pansy for example is in-between men at the moment – who knows - maybe you could at long last - cure her constantly shrewish/bitch behavior".

"Millicent and I didn't think you'd mind providing temporary-cover for an old friend – currently being hunted by hit wizards throughout the United Kingdom and Ireland". Muriel said with a familiar twinkle in her eyes. "Stand-up girl and give a proper newly-wed snog to your husband". A moment later a cloaked and hooded figure rose from the guest chair and slowly turned around to face Neville. With two hands the woman reached up and drew-back her hood, revealing - -"

**OoOoOoOo**

The moment he saw her - his blood turned cold and his body began to tremble. He knew that face, every inch of her curves – her platinum blonde hair. It was a dream made flesh. The platinum spector that haunted him for a year or more during his sixth and seventh year …now stood before him and poor Neville in a state of total shock didn't know how to react.

"You can't be real." He mumbled half to himself in astonishment as Muriel and Millicent looked-on with great interest.

"Then I am just as you foresaw me – good – you have no idea how much the possibility of not being - **the one** – from your-dreams troubled me"

"How can this be – you were just a teenage night-time fantasy?"

"Even when I appeared in your dreams; very pregnant – heavy with your child – licking ice cream and yet **still** randy as hell?" she asked in a seductive purr.

"Licking ice cream, I don't remember the ice cream," Neville said automatically without thinking sounding even more confused.

"MEN – I mean honestly",the white blonde pouted softly. "The arrogance of thinking that destiny only shared such important visions with the male gender –alone."

"Visions… no-no …they were just dreams," Neville said coming partially out of his stupor enough to protest.

"When two people separated by thousands of kilometers - have the exact same **dreams** – right down to the frantic need to make babies- - then I'd call them visions."

"Is it true then?" Millicent asked from behind Neville - sounding excited. "What Becca told Milady and me – that you two dreamed of each other, ruining your relationships with other partners - because you were fated one day to get together?"

"A prophecy – concerning me – a simple gardener – that's got to be pure rubbish," Neville retorted in a state of frantic denial - - having never before been a tool of destiny.

"Why not? – You were one of two children born of parents that opposed Voldemort – you could just as easily have been the Chosen-One …**instead** of Potter. Fate does not give history many multiple choices without a good reason; Neville". Milady Muriel softly pointed out. "Harry Potter – has already had his moment of destiny and who is to say that your moment has yet to arrive?

"You knew about my dreams?" Neville asked his employer - greatly embarrassed.

"No one works on this estate without a **full** background check," Millicent said her tone deadly serious. "I was chatting with Ronnie and Dean over a butterbeer about you - - before you even came here, naturally. Dean was the one that first recalled you tossing Ronnie a galleon to buy him-self a clue about Granger. They told me all they remembered about your dream girl – as well as Mrs. Luna Scamander's prophecy about your soul-mate- -"

"Prophecy – soul mate?" Neville mumbled still unable to wrap his mind around the possibly of his dreams coming true.

"Yes a prophecy - repeated to Dean just two months ago. Millicent said firmly. "Do you know that Luna's mother – who used her maiden name when making her predictions of future events was considered by many to be this generation's greatest seer?

"What Seer was that?" The platinum blonde asked sounding intrigued.

"Lynch, - - Evanna Lynch - she died so young – a tragic accident, really," Muriel interjected. "But are you rejecting what destiny has arranged for you - Neville?"

"No Milady – you can't share a dorm-room with Harry Potter for six years and still turn a blind-eye to prophecy and Fate. However, I don't really know anything about this woman – I was falling hard for Rebecca, before she left us - I told you that – but - -"

"You do know me Neville – but under a different name, a fake name with a manufactured past. We chatted every day for weeks. I admit that at first I resisted becoming attracted – I honestly didn't think you were my type – the Pub analogies …remember? Secondly – I thought that my dreams of years ago were just that – dreams".

"Rebecca - - hold-on Milady said that Rebecca wasn't here – didn't you?"

"What I **said** was that Ms. Mudge wasn't here –and she isn't - thankfully - that particular deception has ended," Muriel said sternly. "The witch we all knew as Ms. Mudge- -"

"- - Never truly existed in modern day England," The platinum blonde-witch interrupted with obvious relief. "But look-up the name Mudge when you get the chance – Rebecca Elson Mudge was a real witch in America and hanged as such - along with her husband Nat Greensmith in 1662.

"So this appearance – right now – is merely a glamor".

"No my-sweet husband, - Rebecca was the glamor, the raven hair, the come-hither attitude – everything was a carefully manufactured sham except for my eye color. When I first set out three years ago - to bring Viktor back from Hades, I knew that if I succeeded my brother and I would have to disappear. I created Rebecca and the glamor that went with it… early-on to hide the real me – because most people; especially men …have certain expectations about Veela's – sexual talents as lovers. The woman you now see before you – had to hide her part-Veela DNA – just to be taken seriously as a potion maker.

"Then everything you told me - -" Neville began

"- - Was true as far as it went, I didn't lie to you once. I couldn't – love for all Veela's with even a tiny trace of the genetic-code - such as I - is grounded in total truth. So I held-back certain facts – that is true enough. I've changed the subject to avoid revealing answers that would have endangered the real me. I really can't enthrall people – my mother can – but I can't. There is however enough Veela blood in me to create a semi-permanent glamor's that can't be cancelled by the strongest of **Finite Incantatem** spells.

"So who are you really"? Neville asked in a calm-reasonable tone.

"My maiden surname was …**Bole**," she answered eagerly with a touch of nervousness in her voice.

"That name sounds familiar – "

"Another of my brothers I'm afraid,- Balthazar Bole attended Hogwarts as a Slytherin and graduated in the class of 1995; – he was born in 1978 two years after Viktor and fourteen months after my mother's divorce was finalized to Hugo Krum – Viktor's father. I was born here in England in the year 1979 and educated at Durmstrang and graduated as part of the class of 96. I was then apprenticed to a potion master in Belgium until late 2002 - which was the year that half-brother Viktor committed suicide.

"And you quest for resurrection began,"

"Exactly. My mother is _**Boadicea Beatrice Bole**_ and she and her current husband - **Beaufort Bratlet Bole**- my **father**…run a Wizarding investment company in Kent. The family **Bole **are considered very well off financially – and of an ancient Anglo-Saxon, noble bloodline that dates back to before the Norman Conquest. My mother was born in Eastern Europe and being an extra long-lived half-Veela. She has had many husbands over the decades. One of them was Viktor's father. Therefore I have two older brothers –by different fathers - one deceased obviously - Viktor - - and two younger blood-sisters ages; nine and ten".

"And your real name?"

"Becca Arwen-Bole …Longbottom.

"Longbottom,?"

"If you'll have me,?"

"And we're legally married?"

"As far as the Ministry is concerned …yes – we are. I figured if we have to start making babies right from the off …a marriage certificate could speed the process along rather nicely. Also with Becca being the shorten version of Rebecca – a name my dad used wheneverhe was miffed at me – I used it in my glamor persona - partially to prevent being caught-out answering to the wrong name".

"Yes I can see that",Neville said noncommittally… sounding resigned to a somewhat pleasant fate.

"I do have one condition – on us being together." Becca suddenly growled like a white tiger - suddenly showing her temper.

"And that is?" Neville said not a-bit intimidated by this display of fury.

"You must make an unbreakable vow –here and now before these- witness, to never again …cheat on me with a flat chested **child** – who has been described to me - as being nearly young enough to be your own daughter.

Looking away from his angry white blonde semi-spouse, Neville saw the same looks of harsh disapproval mirrored on the faces of Muriel and Millicent. Seeing this one though filled his mind

'_Damn-you Hermione and your silly prank_'

OoOoOoOo

**End Trans –for now**

**AN/** another short chapter, for me …and I'm doing this deliberately for my usual size is 10,000 words **plus**. I've been criticized in the past for be too wordy. I've read stories in HP fan-fiction where the above chapter size constituted an **entire** story – start to finish. I can't do that folks, just ask anyone who has ever read any of my small novels - - sorry.

Secondly, the name Mudge is real as is **Bole** in the HP lexicon.  There are no details about the Bole family, that was my doing. So Becca is not a total "Mary-sue" non-cannon character -

okay- okay I only got my toe barely in the door - but I did try - alright?

Review – it helps loads. The **virgin again** concept came from a review and I hadn't thought of that aspect at all. DUH!


	18. Chapter 18

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter **18**; entitled: **While you were Sleeping**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 2,624

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning #;** I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**AN/** I was out of town at a reenactment this weekend, teaching minds full of mush about American History. So thats why this is late

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo **

They walked side by side in silence as they went toward the two Greenhouses. The color of the leaves on the trees was a wild assortment of colors as autumn was now in full swing. The Gardener's cottage in-between the two huge greenhouseswere once again - framed - sided - and freshly roofed. Even the plumbing worked; however, the floors were raw plywood and the inside walls were 'see-thru' unfinished - with just framing two-by-fours to denote where the future rooms would be after the drywall was put in and painted. Still Neville had moved back into this wall-less cottage - three days prior - rather than take the long trek back and forth from the main Manor House every day.

All that remained of the not-to-be rebuilt stables was the foundation stones and half the Gatehouse was gone. The other half including the lounge where Hermione had done her work …and slept - - was boarded up – showing clear sides of a recent fire. Reconstruction after the Greenhouses would be focused on the Gatehouse with the interior of the Gardeners cottage the last thing to finish.

Becca broke the silence; "You don't consider us married – do you?"

"NO – I honestly don't. This is merely a continuation of _**the great game of kings**_ for you, I suppose." Neville said feeling disappointed. "I'm not the sharpest knife in the tray – but I'm not a total dullard either. The Avalon witches turned you down - - didn't they? And you came back here with this cunningly thought-out marriage ploy - - to collect Viktor and the third copy of our research."

"You caught me out, where Milady didn't", Becca said sounding surprised.

"Don't be so sure. Those two are very sharp and neither of them trusts you".

"But you still went along with it – why?" she asked.

"I assume that it was Ron or Hermione who told the amusing tale of my platinum-blonde …dream-girl. Your ability to recall all the minor details of that funny little antidote of mine was really amazing." Neville said looking hard at his feet, ignoring her question - his heart cold and feeling broken.

"At this point I imagine saying that _**everything**_ I said in Milady office – was God's truth – would have little weight with you", Becca said softly.

"Knowing of your all-consuming desire to bring back Viktor – after the Avalon slammed the door in your face - - rushing back here to get what you needed to start again makes more sense to me than any so-called dream girl Veela love for a simple gardener". Neville said sadly. "You're just lucky that my loyalties have changed recently in your favor. I promised you once that when the time came I would move heaven and earth to get you what you wanted. Fool that I am - - I always keep my promises. Now come with me and I'll get you what you **really** came for".

"I did come back for …" she began and then - paused–mid-step and sentence, "but he wasn't **all **I came back for". She said with tears making tracks on her porcelain pale-white cheeks. But Neville was no longer listening, two feet from his front door his house elf Renee abruptly opened the door for his master, bowing respectfully.

"Welcome home master, is this my new mistress?" the elf asked politely.

"No Renee – this great Lady of the noble house of Bole is only a temporary guest," Neville said in a foul mood. "She is here to collect what belongs to her, and then she will be leaving us - for parts unknown. Set up a camp-cot for her upstairs, next to the upper loo. Hang some bed-sheets to give her some privacy.

"Yes master,"

"But Neville – we are way behind in making babies, - -"

"That's not a funny joke - - Ms. Bole" Neville snarled, hating the thought that he'd been played for a fool for the second time in his life – by a woman. "I assume you want to see your brother – so follow me down into the basement.

"Neville - please - listen to me," She pleaded in-between sobs, but her words bounced off his back unheeded. She reluctantly followed him down the freshly painted wooden-stairway. By the time she reached the bottom step he had already opened the secret hidden entrance and disappeared down the dimly lit tunnel.

Becca followed and was only half way through when she heard Neville ahead of her say rather loudly – "I hope you're decent – if not - put on clothing quick - for I have brought a much unexpected guest". This declaration was half the reason she stop dead in her tracks the other half was the reply – in a very familiar voice.

"Neville thank-God you've come, Mudge is a total fraud and Viktor has no sisters by that name".

"- - And you know this HOW?"

"He told me, he opened his eyes about four hours ago,- -"

"And I missed it again – Damnit …I have had nothing but bad luck today," Neville said as Becca in a semi-trance came to the entrance, peeking around the door frame - she saw what looked like a barely thirteen year old steam punker female arguing softly with Neville. It was the girl's stance and arrogant attitude that finally filled in Becca as to the identity of this way too thin strumpet.

"Hermione Jean – your alive again," Becca shouted in a excited tone as she rushed into the room to give the startled bookworm a huge bear-hug.

"Who is this?" Hermione shouted at Neville - not recognizing the Veela at all.

"This is the former Rebecca Mudge… transformed," Neville said with distain. "She **claims** to be here to collect Viktor – as he is now back among the living - -"

VIKTOR'S ALIVE AGAIN! - - Becca shrieked, and after that - came forth from her mouth - a loud torrent of Bulgarian that naturally Neville didn't speak. That Hermione eyes went wide indicated that she clearly understood far more than just every fifth word - - being Krum's fiancée more than once – that made perfect sense to Neville. When Becca stopped speaking and they all heard a weak response… also in Bulgarian – that reply had Becca running to the source – knocking over things in her haste.

"Is this Veela-bit real or a glamor?"

"With her - who can tell - - but tell me, have you sorted things out with Krum?" Neville asked.

"Meaning what?"

"Don't act dumb, I have had a hard day", Neville snarled. "Okay-then, plain and to the point - are you leaving with the Krum party of two – **or** – staying with me to the bitter end and Ron's revival."

"I just wish there was a way to tell Harry we are still alive". Hermione said avoiding the question.

"Then **just leave**, and go find your number one priority." Neville snarled, as she stepped hard on his last nerve.

"Neville …NO – it's more complicated than you know. Viktor is weak …barely alive. I couldn't - -"

"You have …as I fully expected – chosen **once again** to put someone else's needs ahead of Ron". Neville said in a hotly accusatory tone. "You have no idea how disappointed I am in you. Goodnight Ms. Granger". And with that said and giving one last longing look in the direction of the muffled Bulgarian conversation – Neville turned about and marched back through the tunnel alone and broken hearted.

OoOoOoOo

It was well after two in the morning when an indescribably happy Becca Bole emerged from the basement of the Gardener cottage to sort-out Neville. Her Viktor was alive again - her quest of three long years was finished. Over the last few hours as Viktor had faded in and out of consciousness - Becca and Hermione had caught-up on the project current status and Becca had been just as stunned as Hermione had been to discover that Neville – of all people - had managed all alone to pull-off the impossible. The lack of '**how to**' details frustrated Becca as it had Hermione – and both agreed that it was **wrong** of Neville not to provide them with full disclosure.

They had then laughed over the little girl prank that Hermione had pulled on Neville when they had encountered Katie Bell in London. Coming back to the Gardener' cottage some time later; Becca saw through the two-by-four framed room dividers the camp cot where Neville slept in front of the lounge fireplace and made the fateful mistake of not wakening Neville up to sorting-out his erroneous option - - that she had only come back to get what she needed to try-again somewhere else to revive Viktor. Not waking him up **right then** would cost her – in loads of emotional pain later on.

OoOoOoOo –

**Begin flashback **- of a few hours previously within the moon-room - while Viktor slept.

OoOoOoOo

"It's the talk of magical London, some are calling twenty four year old Neville a Wizarding pedophile - for going out with a fifteen year old girl."

"Fifteen"? Snarled Hermione sounding highly offended; "I'm nearly seventeen - damnit"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately", Becca said being honest. "By calling you fifteen - I was being overly - - diplomatic. You must have been a late bloomer – figure wise - in your previous life, because right now you have all the curves of a thirteen year-old **BOY**. Not that Viktor will care.

"I'm not going with you" Hermione said softly in a near whisper.

"He loves you,"

"They both do – Becca"

"This time you can't go running back to Potter to hide from this problem," Becca pointed-out harshly. "Your return from the dead would give the whole game away".

"I know that, I'm not stupid." Hermione retorted hotly.

"But that's what you want to do, isn't it?" Becca said her contempt thick as molasses - "find a explainable way to come back from the dead - - turn them both down – send them both off rejected into permanent exile – while you go back to serving the needs of the one bloke - who has always been your top priority – Harry Potter".

"Why does everyone think I put Harry first in everything? Just tonight Neville said - -"

"- - Because you do, you silly cow," - Becca accused sourly. "Potter doesn't fancy you at all – but that doesn't matter to you at all. That's the real reason my brother never got you to the wedding-alter …**isn't it?** The infamous Chosen-One factor - - no matter how hard he tried - Viktor in the end, wasn't Potter - - Ron has suffer that shortcoming as well …I suppose? You must figure that if you wait long enough - sooner or later Potter will finally **fall in love **with you".

"Are you finished; had your little rant at my expense"? Hermione said growling like a lioness guarding her kill. "As you're just the latest in a long line of people to tell me that I put Harry first – I guess I have to concede the point - yet **again**. But just because I care for Harry deeply - doesn't necessarily translate to obsessing with him.

"Are you blind? – oh forget it. I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow and tell Potter I faked your death and - -"

"- -You'll do no such thing, " Hermione interrupted. "You can just-possibly - explain my faked death without rousing suspicion – but **not** my middle-teens appearance – that would be a far harder to explain away. Regretfully - Neville is right; its exile for all of us that have been reborn, the risk is too great to do otherwise. Harry is just going to learn to live without me at his elbow all the time - and the same applies to me and my non-stop mothering of his every move. And finally - in accepting this painful new reality - - I have no intention of going into permanent exile alone.

"So Ron wins – **this time** – but how long will you stay with your …brother?"

"A hundred plus years if we are lucky,"

"And pray tell me - Miss smartest witch of our age -how are you going to convince Ron - after all these years, that you-are at long last - putting his needs first?"

"Frankly – I don't know, at the moment I only have two things going in my favor – one being; my pretty face and drop-dead sexy figure," Hermione said ironically laughing at her pathetic feminine charms. While Becca smiled politely at this poor attempt at humor.

"You are facially pretty – I'll conceed that point. And the second thing,?" Becca asked politely.

"When Ron rejoins us – if he finds Viktor already gone into exile without me, - - "

"That will get your foot in the door – yes I can see that, - but there is a huge fly in your soup. Only Neville knows the secret of the resurrection potion and he will need to be here to give the last dose to Ron. And as much as I've grown fond of you – there is no way I'm leaving here without my husband.

"You're actaully married - for real - to who?"

"Yes - - to Neville.

"Neville is your husband now? When and how did all this happen?"

"It's rather complicated,"

"Isn't everything?"

**OoOoOoOoEnd flashback**

END TRANS – for now.


	19. Chapter 19

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter **19**; entitled: **Now you see him – now you don't**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 2,669

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning #;** I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo **

Feeling safe for the first time since leaving the Auror safe house - Becca decided to have a-bit of a lie-in (**AN/** slept-in for us yanks) this hope of relaxing under her husband's protection lasted until eight-fifteen in the morning of the following day. When Hermione rushed in with a parchment held tightly in her hand, "Becca- Becca wake-up Neville has bolted."

"Uh-eh ...what did – what – who's bolted?" Becca said rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Neville," Hermione said exasperated.

"What? - - Why?" Becca said abruptly sitting up in bed.

"He doesn't trust either one of us to leave well-enough alone."

"Meaning what?"

"Here let me read his message," Hermione said sitting down on the edge of Becca's camp-cot.

OoOoOoOo

_Dear Hermione_

_I have asked Renee my house-elf to hand you this note the moment you awaken. Renee has been instructed to stay with you in the moon-room serving your needs until the next stage in the process takes place. _

_He is to inform me the moment phase two has completed for the Lupin's or phase-one for Ron. I have asked you repeatedly to cease your snooping, but being as self-righteous about __**being right**__ all the time – you have ignored my request to be the one and only one of us to know Merlin's secret. _

_With the arrival of the calculating and very clever Veela - whose name changes are as fast as fashion does in Paris? I realized that keeping the secret from both of you is a losing proposition. I will return to the greenhouse at odd hours to provide Milady with her signature flowers and will put __wards__ in place to prevent your interruption of my work with questions - I have no intention to answer. _

_I do not know __how much__ of a Veela the former Ms. Mudge is – but fearing I'll be - __**revealing all - **__while under the succubus like __thrall__ of the Veela scares me to death. I retain enough potions to revive the Lupin's, Ron, the two kings and their knights – with the remaining extra-potion …as of right now – having been destroyed. _

_The third copy of the original Avalon experiment I will turn over to Milady, on my way to London. I think Milady and Millicent fear as I do - - that our Veela is __**not **__back out of any __real __affection for me – and with the Avalon rejecting her as a member of their research team – who can really fault Milady for thinking that. Turning over the third copy will prevent her and Millicent separately – or - both together, from snooping about the greenhouses – which is a good thing for all concern- I think you'll agree. _

_I shall ask Milady to explain my absenceto her staff - as a pre-planned shopping/ forging expedition to gather more plant buds to restock the two greenhouses. This is in fact – oddly enough - the truth, for I have already planted all the stock I had on hand and Millicent knows this. _

_I shall return full-time a fortnight from now, more than enough time for Viktor to become strong enough to travel. If as she has often stated __to us both__ that her __**sole**__ purpose in the project was reviving Viktor, then there will be no reason for the Veela and her half-brother to still be living in the moon-room fourteen days from today. If you decide to travel __with them__ Hermione, I'm sure Ron will understand - - - eventually._

_I'm taking with me what you are after Hermione; I have not decided yet whether to destroy my only copy and translation notes - or - put them somewhere safe – beyond your reach. Your incessant snooping is the reason I'm doing this. I hope you're happy._

_Neville,_

_PS: – do not follow me to London, I've made up my mind that for once – I will have the final say on this issue._

_PSS: I know you have in your procession the handbag which contained the tent you used with Potter. I know this because it was on the list we packed-up at your flat – and you told me of its significance. If you are denied sanctuary on the Bole estate and need more time to figure out how to get-out of Britain undetected, may I suggest an autumn camping trip?_

OoOoOoOo

She read the note one more time silently and then turned it over to Becca to read, which she did. "Well?" Hermione asked in an accusatory tone.

"Well what?" Becca asked finishing the note and pushing her friend aside to gather her things to get dressed.

"Did you return just to start over-again with the third copy as Neville wrote?"

"I didn't know you had succeeded - so - - - **yes**," Becca said with blunt candor. "- - but, even with me handling the potion making part –I still needed a Lazarus plant cultivator – someone I could totally trust. And that meant Longbottom. I thought the benefit of being married would sweeten the deal for both of us. Now help me find my trainers".

"Why?"

"Don't be daft – I'm going after him?" Becca said looking under her cot for her right shoe – finding it there she sat back down on her bed and tied the laces. "Being sneaky is no more Neville's forte than translating ancient languages - like magical Celtic - was yours. Keeping ten paces ahead of a score of **neo-DE** assassins isn't easy, but I have loads more expertise **at it** than Neville does. He's been safe enough here under Milady's protection - but out there," she said waving her arms in all directions. "My Neville is a babe in the woods".

"Neville's in danger?" Hermione asked - horrified at the thought.

"Don't think for one second that the **neo-DE** isn't eager to find-out exactly what Neville knows. Those bureaucratic Git's at the Ministry might think he's just a gardener - but don't expect the enemy to make the same mistake.

"I'm going with you", Hermione declared.

"No you're not,"

"You need me to hold him down – while you explain yourself. Our gender has burned him pretty-bad lately - and if you do have _**genuine**_ feeling for him- -"

"Hermione, I don't have to marry a man to get him to bunk-up with me. I had dreams too – same as his – but with mine I never saw his face."

"You're his dream-girl?"

"I hope so – I fancy him loads more than any other bloke I gone with. I'm twenty-six and the nesting urges have been hitting me harder than usual lately – a negative side effect of a multi-year Veela induced glamour …I guess. I didn't even realize that he was my dream-guy until after I left here – then the feeling of loss – that I'd left behind a vital part of my soul – hit me like a ton of bricks".

"So you came back for- -"

"Another chance to revive my brother, – AND MY NEVILLE", Becca said with grim determination."But you can't come with me – the **risk**- -"

Katie Bell didn't recognize me – so I relatively safe on that score," Hermione said logically. "Unless I run into Harry – I doubt even my parents would recognize me now - - a little magical padding in a transfigured bra to give me bigger 'ta-tas' than the old Granger ever had at seventeen - so that I appear a different body-type…and I'm good to go. But I don't have a wand".

"I can take care of that, my family has a collection of several centuries worth of old wands from my ancestors' – I'm sure we can find something that will work for you, but where do we go to find Neville?"

"While I was snooping in his papers, a while ago - I came across a list of preferred magical greenhouses suppliers that he's dealt with in the past – and blessed with a photographic memory I can tell you where he went in order of importance".

"Take hold of my arm," Becca said taking out her wand and with a pop the two witches vanished.

OoOoOoOo

In the shadows near the stairs a house elf watched. Marching over to the cottages main fireplace with a wave of his tiny arms Renee spoke. "Master – they have gone". Then with a flash of Green flames – Neville returned to the Gardeners cottage lounge.

"You did well Renee," Neville said. "Now gather the other elves, including Ron's, pack everything on the list as I instructed and move it to the safe house in Wales. Do you have the supplies?

"Enough food - five people - two moons - heating coal for three moons, but cottage itself Master – in ruins – more than half-roof tee rot away – a dirt floor - isolated part of tee Welsh coast – no village close-by. If Master repairs magically tee spells – be noticed by tee Ministry.

"I'm not going to repair the place." Neville said squatting down to speak to his elf as an equal. "Granger and Potter survived for a year during the war living in a magical tent - too small to be detected by the Ministry – we'll do the same thing. A few Muggle avoidance charms and we'll be safe".

"Yes master" the elf said reluctantly.

"If you can come up with a better plan Renee – I'm all ears"

"You let tee lowly house-elf help his Master?"

"You are my family Renee, the only family I have left after Gran died. The man who ignores the advice of family is a fool". The house-elf stood there gob-smacked never before had a wizard put such trust in an elf. Straightening his tiny shoulders Renee determined to be worthy of such trust.

"Master …let elves handle – magical protection tee tent, our magic different than wizards – untraceable - unplottable. Wizards and Muggle's not find us.

"Can you move the two Lupin's and Ron without harm?

"The Lupin-couple …yes master, but-but - - but …may Renee speak freely - master?" the elf said suddenly very nervous.

"Of course,"

"Master's close friend …empty shell – is wonky – dodgy, unnatural. Magic surrounding – be distorted – twisted… off."

"Not like the others - eh? Is dark magic surrounding it – **or** – does it radiate evil to you?"

"No master, not dark – just whacked – not seems right tee house-elves. So we do not move."

"You advise me to leave Ron behind?"

"No master – we sense no dark magic – it just wonky, so we don't move"

"Alright – I'll move Ron myself, after I speak to Krum. But let's get cracking – I've never been good at deceiving witches - so let's get out of here before my trickery falls apart. - - - After I have moved Ron safely to our new home - I want you to find both witches wherever they are - and give Hermione my second message".

"Yes master."

**OoOoOoOo **

"I don't get it, Pauline, this is the third supplier we've visited in the last hour and Neville has been in to any of them. " Becca said using the same name that Hermione had given Katie Bell.

"I'm at a loss too; Becca. If Neville was restocking - he would have shopped at one the suppliers we've been too already". Hermione said sounding confused as she slowly scanned the crowd of witches and wizards milling about - looking for her favorite botanist. Suddenly she felt a tiny tug on the jacket she was wearing.

"Mistress – mistress" …a tiny house-elf said in a squeaky voice. "I have a missive for you".

"And you are"

"Tweaky – mistress, I belong to Master Wheezy. Master 'NE vie' asked Tweaky extra polite - to give you this". The house elf said with a tiny curtsey – while handing over a small scroll of parchment.

"Why would one of Ron's elves – help out Neville?" Becca asked rhetorically - as she watched the elf apperate away.

OoOoOoOo

_Dear Hermione_

_Right from the off, I apologize for my trickery. I'm not visiting London to restock. Instead I gave Milady early this morning my fortnight notice of leaving her employ. Your snooping and the Veela's unexpected return are the reasons behind this abrupt change in my plans._

_You will find the moon room emptied of everything but two folding cots, placed side by side - - yours and Viktor's. As you have decided to take away my right of decision over Merlin's secret - I revoke your right of decision concerning deciding between Viktor and Ron. _

_Ron and the Lupin's are with me, as well as __**all**__ your notes on the process. I'm __as sure__ that you'll reconstruct most of what I've taken - as I am that you'll __**not**__find us until it's too late. As they rejoin the living - I intend to send them __**all**__ off into exile - safe in the knowledge that you __**three**__ are together and happy with your choice. _

_I'm sure you are no happier with me ignoring your wishes, as I am with you ignoring mine._

_Have a good life with your Bulgarian_

_Neville_

OoOoOoOo

Hermione looked up, massive tears pouring down her cheeks, she calmly handed the note to Becca mere moments before fainting dead-away – collapsing into a heap on the floor.

OoOoOoOo

**End Trans – for now**


	20. Chapter 20

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter **20**; entitled: **Skunked Again**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 3,068

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning #;** I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**AN/** its Friday time for another update - but this time I have a rquest - please review, it helps more than you know.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo **

Once Becca managed to resuscitate Hermione - the two witched rushed back to the Gardeners cottage on the Prewett estate. The first floor showed an empty cot - a hard-wood high back chair and nightstand - - all devoid of any trace of Neville. They hurried through the tunnel into moon room only to find it spotlessly clean and rearranged back into a Wolfbane plant herbarium – complete with once again working moon-lamps.

In a tiny cotton and wood framed partitioned cubicle - next to the entrance, sat a propped-up Viktor Krum on his camp-cot …with a lit oil lamp between the two cots on a cozy little night stand - listening contently to the news on the Wizarding wireless. Looking up at the two witches as they entered he said is sad soft voice.

"He's no here. Das-Mann der-Honor – a real pity - dat you-two couldn't leave **well-enough** alone."

"He spoke to you before he left?"

"JA - he did, das-mann felt obligated das explain him-self. He loves mine …elfin Becky – und leaving you hurt bad – I could dell," Viktor said in broken English.

"Do you have any idea where he took the others?" Becca asked fighting back tears - as Hermione stared at the empty wooden slab where Ron's body had once laid …silently sobbing.

"I overheard das house-elves talk - - dey-say about going to de '**foundation stone, first home'**, whatever dat meant. Neville tell me before he go - dat in your heart I had more priority denn -de Weasel - - did – are du choosing **me** after all?" Viktor said in heavily accented broken English.

"I'm sorry Viktor, we've already had this discussion and you and I are incompatible,"

"But Neville say - -"

"Neville has been wrong about any number of issues during this adventure," Hermione said shaking her head sadly. "I admit to having trouble expressing any noticeable outward signs - of my preference to be with Ron over other men. He has …and rightfully so - felt second place for many years now - over my often disproportionately …near-total support of Harry. I know that has to change, big-time. Had I been more straightforward in the past, in demonstrating his priority in my life - - then my 'brother interview' would not have been so ruinous- for us".

"Tell me dis not helpful - -"

"You and I don't fit".

"No-no, I accept dat you be wit-him, - - but you should tell der Weasel dis – not me".

"Easier said than done," Hermione lamented. "When it comes to Ron and my feelings – I'm a coward."

"You coward –nein, Viktor snarled weakly. You dis more prefect din Athena; never-ever …wrong!"

"Damnit – this is why I can't be with you - - I'm not a bloody infallible Goddess". Hermione shouted at Viktor - suddenly blindly furious. "I don't walk on water - - I muck-up things all the ruddy time".

"We have to find our men, and sort this out. I for one – don't intend my new spouse to slip right through my fingers the way Hannah let him do." Becca said coming out of her own regret filled reflections. "But the question remains - - where to look? What does a house-elf mean when referring to a **foundation stone**?

"He wouldn't go back to his Gran's old Manor house, that's too obvious. Besides; I handled Augusta's estate when she passed; it was my first _**pro-bono publico**_ …estate case. The Manor house was sold to Alfred Enoch and his Family. So Neville can't have gone to that **first Home** …for is no longer empty.

"Nein- nein, stop thinking wizard," Viktor interrupted in a weak whisper. "Better das find out what dis meant by _**first home**_ to das house-elf. Their cultural reference …nein human",

"Viktor's right, but I can't just pop over to Hogwarts library for a-bit of Elf-lore research", Hermione moaned.

"Pack your things Hermione, I happen to know personally - **the** European expert on House Elf culture and their social traditions and I'm sure she'll help me – for a price".

"Mama?" Viktor whispered softly almost to himself - with a shudder of dread

"I beg your pardon," Hermione asked, partially coming out of her weeping-depression to look hard at Viktor. "What's this about your mother?"

"You'll either have to pretend to be a couple or not come along". Becca said thinking out loud while straightening her shoulders and gathering her resolve. "Maybe it's better for everyone that I face her alone",

"Face who? Are we going to battle?" Hermione asked feeling confused.

"In da way das JA …yes vee are," Viktor said softly.

"Isn't your mother in Bulgaria?" Hermione asked.

"Nein, mit-mama was one of many wives mine-papa has had," Viktor declared sounding ashamed. "Dis da reason dat I half-brother to Becky ; Same mama – different papa's".

"We need to find a secluded spot in Dartmoor forest and set up the Potter war-tent as Neville so kindly suggested. We can use it as a base of operations as it's not too far from Plymouth and Bole castle. Yes–yes, I like that idea".

"mit-etw …I mean - - do I have to… go?"

"She is your mother Viktor, stop acting like a baby."

"Das Veela die scary!"

"Alright then - you can stay in the tent. You big die-feigling!

"Nien –coward!" and what followed was a big sibling argument in a stream of pure Bulgarian - and away from the broken-German spoken at Durmstrang, - - - a fact that always amused Hermione – for now that she knew where the school was physically located – she always thought that either Finnish – **or** - to a lesser extent, the Murmansk area - old Imperial Wizarding Russian - would have been more appropriate.

Standing near the doorway and watching Becca and Viktor have a sibling argument reminded Hermione of the verbal squabbles that Ron use to have with his sister Ginny, and just the thought that that would never happen again made Hermione feel very-very sad.

**OoOoOoOo**

**Twenty-two days later - in a very familiar tent - deep in the moors of Dartmoor.**

**OoOoOoOo**

Hermione couldn't help the feeling of - Deja-vu. Here she was once again hiding-out from the Ministry – with two others. The gender mix had been reversed - but the surroundings were the same? Thank-god Becca could go into the local village for groceries and she didn't have to catch and **burn** (not cook –burn) the local fish. Viktor had her old solo bed and she had rather firmly claimed Ron's upper-bunk.

Every couple of days, Becca made the painful pilgrimage to the Bole estate for fresh research materials. Hermione had gone with Becca exactly **once** and had sworn to never do that again. Viktor had been right; a half-Veela **in person** – is intimidating beyond belief – polite with absolutely prefect manners – the perfect hostess in every way –a beautiful – elegant – platinum blonde – with elf like pointed ears - seductress. But there was also an aura surrounding - **Boadicea Bole** - that was beyond-powerful – not to be denied - - -scary.

During the one and only audience, Hermione shared with Milady Bole – She learned that to a House-elf the foundation stone was the very special place where a **new** elf-clan first formed. The first home was yet another term for the human concept of the foundation of a building where an old Wizarding family crossed the invisible line separating nobility and commoner.

OoOoOoOo - - **Begin flashback**.

"So how do we find the exact spot where a particular elf clan was formed?" Hermione asked slightly trembling as she had on day one at Hogwarts when confront a powerful looking professor McGonagall. Becca had been briefly dismissed to visit her younger sisters –while lady Bole 'got to know better' her daughters only female friend in recent history. - **Pauline Fossil** - as introduced by Becca.

"You don't – house-elf's were first brought to England during the second Roman invasion under the emperor Claudius. You say you're a friend of my daughter - helping her in this ridiculous attempt to bring back from the dead - my oldest son Viktor. I've read in the newspapers recently of the silly battle the Avalon are having with the reformed Death Eaters movement - over the **Arthurian Myth **resurrection potion. I sincerely hope you are not a part of that nonsense".

"No Milady – our **current** research is **not** based on recreating - the Lazarus potion," Hermione said feeling very small.

"That's good to hear?" Boadicea purred softly. "Your clearly too young and bookish to be an expert in potions like my Becca - so what role do you have in my daughter foolish obsession?

"Research and translations," – Hermione replied automatically shaking her head trying to clear.

"Don't brother child, you cannot lie to me. I'm a half-Veela and I have all the powers of my pure blooded sisters".

"But I thought that Veela's had not effect on women" – Hermione said weakly.

"A common misimpression", Boadicea replied. "For a quarter-blood Veela or below that's true enough, but enemies of my kind, - my dear - come in both human genders. Among the **full** Veela's - - children such as my daughters would be put-down as genetically defective – myself included. My mother however …as do I - share a weakness for powerful human wizards. With a lifespan of nearly two-hundred and a body that does not show signs of age until mere hours before death. I have enjoyed the bed of several human-wizards and only moved on to a new spouse - when they provided me with proof beyond doubt - that they no longer loved me.

"My previous husband; Hugo, for example - betrayed me with other women and was politically dissatisfied that I dare to give him a non-Veela son …instead of the daughter he **ordered** me to produce. I suspect he wanted a Veela to control a rival in finance through marriage". My main reason for the abrupt end of my one year marriage to that mongrel cru Hugo - was his presumption to treat a Veela as chattel.

"So you divorced him?" Hermione asked.

"I neutered the dog, took away his bloodline's ability to sire other children – except through my son Viktor. Put him in hospital enough times - that he begged me to let him and his clan go".

"Why were you not imprisoned?"

"Here in England my kind are rare and few – but there are as many Veela in Eastern Europe as there are vampires in Transylvania, at my request - the Veela clans hunted down the Krum's in Bulgaria like you Britain's hunt fox. There is no crime in a blood feud in my country. In Greater Russia we are a race to be reckoned with",

"Then why did you come to England?"

"One day in Bucharest, I accidently bumped into an Englishman. As his accent was cute I took him to my bed for a lark. I have played that same bedroom game with him for years now. Regretfully my children with Lord Bole have very-little Veela blood in them and as their part human nature would make their lives very difficult if we went back to Bulgaria – so we moved here. Your British wizards are far more tolerant of a half-breed Veela like-me; than Eastern Europe ever was – the British even find us breathtakingly desirable. Besides; I'm frankly curious as how my daughters will survive without the benefit of my Veela powers".

"It's an odd thing really; Beaufort didn't really care-about the gender of his offspring's with me – so naturally - fate gave us primarily girls. He has remained both devotedly faithful and surprisingly randy for a human his age and for that reason alone – I chose to stay with him".

Hermione blushed hard in the presence of this blatant seductress – who seemed to ooze sensuality and magical power.

"Of my daughters …**so-far** ", Boadicea smirked with a deeply lustful …anticipatory smile. "My Becca is regretfully the weakest Veela I have ever given birth to, as such - I've been desperately worried that she will not be able to find a life-mate. So I must ask you, the marriage certificate she showed me – is it genuine?"

"Yes Milady,"

"When do I meet him?"

"I honestly don't know Milady" Hermione said fighting mentally to break the **thrall **she was under - using the same methods she used to fight-off the imperious curse. "Neville Longbottom only recently found-out that Becca is a part-Veela and fearing that his love and recent marriage with Becca was the result of a Veela Thrall – has- -"

"- - Bolted",

"Yes madam."

Milady Bole chuckled for a solid minute – greatly amused by this news. "This kind of thing - happens to Veela's more often than you might guess - my dear child. Do I correctly assume that the house-elf terms; foundation stone and first Home are your only clues - to my new son-in-law whereabouts?"

"Yes Milady," Hermione reluctantly spat.

"Impressive, you're actually fighting the thrall – oh well done. My husband and daughters have learned to block my thrall but you – mere Muggle-born witch, as I say - very impressive. You must be the most stubborn witch who ever lived".

"So I've been told," Hermione replied slowly through grit-teeth.

"Well before you injure yourself – I must confess that as a house-elf expert, I can't help you find my daughter's run-away husband. You see my dear, when a house-elf bonded-by-blood to a new master refers to the foundation stone – the elf is generally not referring to the elf-clans first-home; instead he-or-she is speaking of the master's foundation stone".

"The Longbottom foundation stone?"

"Yes child, and don't brother digging about for it at Augusta's old manor house. That dwelling was built in 1889 and although old, the noble family of Longbottom dates back centuries before that was built".

"Then this visit was all for nothing," Hermione said sounding frustrated.

"Not entirely, it depends on how good you are in doing research". Boadicea retorted kindly. "I can honestly boast of having more knowledge on house-elves than any other person now living. But part of my attraction to Lord Bole, beyond his talent in the bedroom - is in the fact that he too is an expert in his own specialty, even Muggle's regard him as the final say on the subject.

"What subject is that?" asked a mentally exhausted Hermione.

"Why genealogy of course - the science of researching the Family trees of both wizards and Muggle's - there is none better than my Beaufort in genealogy research – with our reference library the best in the world for that kind of research. There's no bigger collection anywhere in the entire United Kingdom, Scotland, Ireland and Wales. If you want find the **first home** of the noble house of Longbottom – the information is to be found in my husband's library," Boadicea boasted rather smugly.

OoOoOoOo - **end flashback**

Eighteen long days after that painful interview, with her old war tent stuffed to overflowing with genealogy books of all kinds and shapes, Hermione was no closer to finding the crossover place where the Longbottom's became a-part of the Wizarding nobility - than on _**day one**_. Exhausted both physically and mentally – having spent another entire night going through the vague Longbottom family history yet again. Hermione got up on tried legs for yet another cuppa of coffee. Viktor and Becca had both called it a night several hours before and therefor Hermione was the only one awake to hear.

"Hello – hello there – in the tent – is anyone awake?" A soft definitely young and female voice declared from just outside the entrance flap. "I'm looking for a seventeen year old witch by the name of Hermione Jean Granger – have I come to the right place?"

OoOoOoOo

**End Trans** – for now

**A notes/** I love using HP actor's real names in my stories.


	21. Chapter 21

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers**

Chapter **21**; entitled: **The Longbottom Hideaway**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Word count: 2,993

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Warning #;** I will **pick and choose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Author's notes**: A dear friend and my long-time mentor in fan-fiction offered me a dream come true in exchange for me ending a anoying sub-plot. At this point in my tale - I am five chapters ahead of my readers - even so - I refuse to take advantage of my mentors' kindness.

I will let him judge if the sub-plot is **DEAD**

**OoOoOoOo**

**Flashback starts**

"Hello – hello there – in the tent – is anyone awake?" A soft definitely young and female voice declared from just outside the entrance flap. "I'm looking for a seventeen year old witch by the name of Hermione Jean Granger – have I come to the right place?"

**End flashback **

**OoOoOoOo**

**Roll film**

**OoOoOoOo**

"Try again madam – please?" A house-elf squeaked.

"Tweaky no one is answering - I know it's barely dawn - but as Ronald Weasley, chief house-elf …you assured me you could find the mortal love of his life".

"This **is it**…oh great-one, my master's 'Grangee' is within and awake – she listens to what we say – even now," the elf replied.

"Oh bother – come-on Ms. Granger let us in. We're in a bit of a rush here –you know". The feminine voice declared in a rush. "Your Ronald came back from the dead just yesterday - and while the Lupin's were off running a errand in London - the first thing **your** Ronald tried to do was murder Mr. Longbottom. My husband insists that only you can coax him back from his near total procession by Mordred …son of Anna Morgause - Queen of Gododdin-"

Suddenly a hand holding a wand pushed its way through the entrance flap, just as Viktor and Becca responded to the noises - jumped out of their beds wands in hand.

"Who are you?" - Hermione asked as she pushed through the entrance and stepped outside to confront the intruders.

"My birth name was Vivienne," the attractive witch declared firmly. "My father was said to be Diones, my mother was allegedly a Sicilian Siren – I never met or knew either of them – History has incorrectly lumped other real witches lives into mine - giving me regretfully - any number of other aliases as well, such as- -"

"- - Niniane, Vivian, Niviene and possibly Nimue - one of many to hold the title of 'theLady of the lake'," Becca said stepping up beside Hermione – also with her wand pointing. "Nimue's allegedly - base of operation was said to be the forest of Broceliande in Brittany, France – most commonly thought to be the modern Paimpont forest …the place the sorceress imprisoned under a huge rock - in a crystal cave for a millennia or more …the great Merlin.

"You are far better informed than I expected," Vivienne said sounding impressed.

"All the Merlin tales in both French and English have been a passion of mine since I was a small child," Becca said. "So I know enough of the story of Merlin to know who you are **pretending** to be. That the real _**lady of the lake**_ if she ever actually existed – as a single person - died a mad woman and had her body hacked to pieces by the Avalon multiple centuries ago – that fact is also **not** lost on us. I won't ask how you found us – whoever you really are - but you did mention **my** Neville - -"

"- - and **my** Ron" Hermione interjected as Viktor stepped on her other side adding his pointed wand to the two witches.

"I assure you that I am the original sorceress Vivienne, a protégé of _**Morgan Le fay**_ – and a student /lover of the greatest wizard of all time. But it was **of course** …foretold by that full of himself fool; Myrddin - that you would not believe me. So I guess we do this the **HARD** way," and then rising her arms above her head hands outstretched wide recited some short phase in Roman-Celtic.

A Moment later for Hermione, Victor and Becca – their entire world went pitch BLACK.

OoOoOoOo

When their vision cleared, Hermione - Becca and Viktor found them on the steep downward slope of a windy and rainy hill - surrounded by the sea on one side and grey, rain soaked mountains of stone on the other. Their first questions perfectly displayed their very different personalities.

"Mien-got dat was cool," Viktor exclaimed sounding like a school boy.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked her curiosity for new spells - going crazy.

"Where are we?" Becca asked being the first to realize that their wands were missing.

"You are in Wales of course,"Vivienne declared smugly. "The protected and elongated cove below us for those interested in history - was once called 'long bottom' by the locals". This news left Hermione and Becca gob-smack speechless.

"Ja - - Das Longbottom founding stone mit here?" Viktor said.

"It is still here …I'm told," Vivienne said smugly - while pointing to a pile of stones that gave the vague outline of an really-old castle. "It was during the battle for that castle – in 1272 -during Edward the first, nicknamed the 'Long shanks' - king of England successful invasion of Wales, that a young squire of common-birth… a simple man at arms earned his spurs for bravery above and beyond the call. He had no surname as he had worked his way up the medieval social ladder from serf to squire, so when Longshanks him-self knighted him on the battlements that he had all-but single handedly conquered – the king dubbed him 'the first'…**Sir** Longbottom of Wales".

"Lands – gold, noble titles such as the **Earl **of long bottom - and other social advancement followed during the rest of the conquest …naturally – but here in this now forgotten cove - is where it all started – for you Lord Husband and botanist-extraordinaire … Becca".

"You know my name too?"

"Oh my yes, I've been waiting centuries for you both". Vivienne said casually ignoring Becca's look of disbelief. "Regretfully …Myrddin's predictictions like ninety percent of his other writings were notoriously weak on details. It's hard to get him to commit to a time line on his foresights as well. One of my sisters kept detailed records of all of his prophecies and reading them over - I was frankly surprise that **any** of his premonitions came true.

"And which sister was that?" Becca asked casually as she and the others followed Vivienne toward the ruins of a cottage – at the base of the fallen down castle - with smoke visible - spiraling upward from the chimney and into the light drizzle.

"It was Nimue; but I doubt you'd believe that either." Vivienne said hurrying along the others. Hermione was being usually silent and looking with grim determined as she hurried on to the ruined cottage and Ron

"I can see why," Becca retorted sarcastically not in half the rush as her companions. "Considering the fact, that if you were who you claim to be – you wouldn't be speaking modern English?"

"True enough – you're a smart-one …aren't you". Vivienne commented with a soft chuckle. "Have you ever heard of 'pool's of ink' and its many magical uses? Especially to two people trapped in a cave for centuries?"

"You've been watching us from a-far?" Becca said surprised - mere meters from the front door.

"Not you-lot personally – until just recently,"Vivienne replied with chuckle. "We've been following the trial of the _**livery collars** _for the most part. The Charlemagne and Avalon covens were only two of the players in the resurrection potion struggle back in Merlin's time; there was a third faction – like the neo-DE is today - a group now thankfully …forgotten by history".

"A third group fighting over Merlin's secret – eh?" Becca asked pausing just outside the door - hesitating before going in …her curiosity getting the better of her. "And who would that be?"

"The **druids** – of course - Merlin's own people - he accepted banishment from the affairs of men – imprisonment for a millenniumin a cave …with me as part of a deal he made with the Avalon. Myrddin Emrys surrendered the knowledge of resurrection to the covens as **the price** for the Avalon taking his place as the _**once and future king**_ closest advisors - and the protection of all the United Kingdom from an evil wizard far greater than a hundred Voldemort's."

"And who is that?" Becca asked standing with Vivienne outside the ruined cottage, the others having already disappeared within.

**Mordred** also call Medraunt - the incestuously produced demon-spawn son …of a brother and sister, Anna Morgause also sometimes called Morgan le-fay who was the full-blood sister to Arthur Pendragon king of the Britons".

"Mordred- the traitor son of the king - and lover of the very married Guinevere?" Becca asked in a shocked tone.

"Yes – I see you know about him – good. The same evil enchanter whose magical power - makes your Voldemort looks like a rank amateur".

"But he's long dead –isn't he?"

"As dead as the Lupin's are - like I am supposed to be – or - Myrddin Emrys who history now calls by his Welsh title – **Merlin"**? Vivienne pointed-out sharply. "You really don't comprehend the **Pandora's Box** you-lot opened – in successfully recreated Myrddin's Lazarus potion. There are many souls in the underworld who would give anything for a second shot at life. All Mordred needed was a tiny opening, like a man feed the potion who didn't want to come back - due to deep romantic heartbreak."

"Ron?"

"Yes,"

"Merlin stopped Mordred,"

"No, Myrddin only imprisoned - or - finished-off …the foul creature Neville defeated. A child chosen by fate once again stepped up to do the impossible". Vivienne declared firmly. "The significance of this magical skirmish in the middle of nowhere is huge. A Longbottom at the same place his ancestor earned his spurs, single-handedly defeated a truly great evil.

"Potter had his victory in front of everyone – hundreds watched Voldemort fall - - Neville fought evil all-alone …in an empty tent - for being brave and going above and beyond the call of duty –doesn't require an audience. Doing what-is- right can also be very costly to the hero. That's why the very man you seem in no great rush to see…hangs onto life – by a tiny thread",

Becca's eyes went wide in horror and panic – stunned motionless she managed to mumble; "you said attempted murder – as in - it failed."

"That I did, - **bravo** - you paid close attention",Vivienne said. "But my dear child – you would be surprised how much horrific damage a human body can withstand and still stay _**barely alive**_". Becca still stood rigidly frozen – immobile in a paralyzing state of shock.

"Come child – you might have enough time to say goodbye before he passes on". Vivienne said softly with regret.

"But the potion – can bring him back - right? Becca stuttered,

"The extra –NO - Neville destroyed that - to keep you and Granger from abusing it. All that remains is the red-potion for the return of the soul".

"For Arthur, Charlemagne and their knights," Becca said softly in a semi-trance.

"Yes child – **IF** that becomes Necessary some-day **FAR** in the future from now - pray God. But come before it's too late," Vivienne said as she gently guided Becca into the shell of the ruined cottage and through the flap of the large medieval pavilion tent set up within the cottage's remnants.

Stepping inside Becca saw Viktor right away - as part of a group of people in their early teens - gathered behind a total stranger - a **young** man who appeared to be about the same age as Vivienne – a man wearing Muggle blue-jeans, a '**carry-on'** tee-shirt and an American baseball cap turned backward.

This unknown youthful looking wizard; who was clearly missing the fully expected; - long white bread and hair that was the ancient stereotypical image of Merlin. There were no flowing robes with painted moons and stars - no pointed hat or hair that reached down to the floor - this man more resembled Hermione's steam-punk appearance than the Great Merlin. And-yet in spite of the stark-contrast Becca knew at once that this youth was the Merlin.

Next to the two teenagers that she had to assume was the Lupin's …Becca saw that on the floor of the tent was a pulsing green glow at the center of a three-foot square box of solid crystal. For some reason that she didn't understand - the pulsing glow at its center - reminded Becca of a beating heart.

As she took all this in - -Vivienne was still half-dragging a stunned gob-smacked Becca through to tent to the far end - - where the bedrooms were to be found. Out of the corner of her eye Becca strained to see what the youthful Merlin was doing - for he appeared to be leaning over - waving his arms and muttering a Celtic incantation - over what looked like a half-Giant of an extra huge, red-haired man lying unmoving on the floorof the tent - with a openly sobbing Hermione knelt next to it.

During her brief (in-passing) glance around the room - Becca had noticed that standing next to Viktor was a teenage couple that were **not** standing as extra close together as she had expected of a loving couple – they looked deeply worried …of course – with the witch in question boasting bright purple Hair.

But something was clearly amiss - for the ex-werewolf was not comforting his mate as Becca expecting him to do – nor was he standing in a semi-protective stance in the presence of another male and potential challenger for mating rights.

Becca had once done a term-paper on werewolf behavior and she knew that like their four legged brethren – the rules of the Pack applied to Werewolves. It was undeniable that Remus wasn't a werewolf anymore - because of curative effects of the second resurrection (blue) potion – but the instinctive habits of decades should not disappeared in a mere fortnight.

Puzzled by elder Lupin's odd behavior she had no time to investigate as she was guided out of the lounge – she had quickly determined that both Lupin's had returned to the living with the same early to mid-teen… _**age disadvantages**_ in appearance - that had plagued Hermione. The pair of them **barely** looked fourteen - - and yet; Becca knew that Remus was thirty-eight at the time of his death - with Dora twenty-five.

But all thought of the Lazarus experiment vanished from Becca's head the moment she ducked under the flap of canvas that divided the lounge from a small bedroom. For there before her - looking deathly pale - was Neville, with most of his face and body covered in yellow magically glowing bandages. Somehow sensing her entrance - Neville half-opened his eyes – he then weakly tried to smile at her.

"You're so beautiful", he feebly whispered.

"And you look like shite," she retorted automatically - trying to make a joke – while fighting a losing battle to keep control of her emotions, with tears running down her cheeks she declared. "I can't leave you on your own for a few minutes and look at what you gotten yourself into?"

"Sorry" he whispered before closing his eyes and fading away.

"Neville – Neville", Becca said as she rushed forward - fearful that he had - -.

**OoOoOoOo**

**End Trans – for now **

**AN/** Another cliffy… hee-hee-hee


	22. Chapter 22

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers Blondes**

**Chapter 22**; entitled: **One Down – One to Go**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

word count this chapter:3, 382

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow **smut**.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Time-frame**: begins in the last chapter of HBP,its midnight, around **mid-June, 1997** …some two days before Dumbledore's funeral.

**AN/** a grasshopper explains to blind master

OoOoOoOo

**Roll film**

OoOoOoOo

When he slowly opened his eyes again, and fighting his way back to consciousness had been a real battle. The first thing he noticed was that the sounds of the sea roaring in the background were gone. His tenting idea had worked as far as keeping them dry, fed and warm. But it was storm season for the Irish Sea and the rumble of the waves wasn't far from the ruins of a cottage where they had taken shelter – so the sounds of waves crashing against the rocks had been a constant in their lives.

Neville had half-expected to see the canvas of the tent above him when he opened his eyes but that's not what he actually saw. Instead of canvas Neville saw carved stone of a high twenty-foot arched ceiling. The room was cozy-warm and dimly lit by scattered candles. He knew from the feel of it –that-he was stretched out on a comfortable king-sized bed instead of the narrow camp-cot he had slept on the previous night. He knew he was flat on his back and-yet he could feel his arm wrapped around another body – that was cuddling-up tightly against him.

A quick glance downward and the sight of platinum white hair which made Neville begin to wonder if he was having a dream, such thoughts were quickly dispelled when he tried to lift his other arm - a stab of sharp-pain coursed his way through him making him grimace.

"Try not to move" a soft voice whispered from somewhere off to his left. "I just got Becca to fall sleep and I rather you not wake her. She has worn her-self to a frazzle over the last few days - worrying about you."

"Dora?" Neville managed to squeak softly. Turning his head slowly in the direction of the voice, Neville saw a brown with silver-streaked haired witch wearing black leather sitting in a high-backed chair a few feet off to his left. Overall - she wore a comfortable looking steam-punk outfit and had a book in her lap.

"I'll take that name from you, but don't make a habit out of it – okay?" Tonks replied.

"Are you my nanny today? I know better than to call you my hospital matron".

"Is it the outfit?" Tonks replied with a chuckle and a smile. "At least I can pull-off this look, Hermione just looks weird. But then-again; she is too straight lace to be a convincing Goth punker. By-the-way, what did you do to that girls hair; she looks far to butch for my liking and Ron will simply hate it, **if** he ever wakes up.

"I thought I killed him?"Neville said sounding weak and surprised

"That blithering-Giant,? Not-hardly; even Myrddin couldn't bring down that brute in its prime. Lucky for Wizarding-kind the chosen-one was around to weaken that evil creature to the point where Myrddin could draw out the poison and bottle it".

"The **Chosen-One** …does that mean Harry is here?" Neville asked stirring tried to sit-up and quickly thought better of it - the pain convincing him to lie-still, while causing Becca to wake-up …just-enough to open her eyes just a little.

"No-no, Potter isn't here, but then-again, he wasn't the only one fate chose to do great things".

"Who told you that rubbish; I'm just a simple gardener". Neville snorted

"The wizard formerly known under the title of Merlin – he told us. Apparently Harry had his bad-guy to beat and you had yours, _**go figure - eh**_?" That Myrddin bloke – he's full of surprises – far older by centuries than me in years – almost younger in appearance …with no explanation offered to our questions beyond a vague 'ask-Ron'," Tonks said in a puzzled tone as she finally noticed that Becca was awake and listening discretely.

"Myrddin's the one who magiced the extra mass of flesh, bones, organs and blood out of _**Giant-Ron**_ and merged it into you and the others – using methods of healing never taught to us at Hogwarts".

"Perhaps his magic comes from a different age, and - -"

"- - oh my - well spotted Neville. Things are most definitely different for me now – the world is different too," Tonks lamented. "When I died I had a reluctant husband who did his duty to me and his child. Now my son is eight years old and I really can't be his mother – for how can a girl of seventeen be a mum to a boy pushing nine"?

"I hadn't thought of that", Neville said in an apologetic tone which Tonks ignored as she rambled on in her rant.

"Remus once accused me of trapping him into marriage with an unwanted child and perhaps I did. Without Teddy to bind Remus to me – how can I hope to hold a marriage together that ended when death parted us"?

"Do you resent me for bringing you back?" Neville asked softly assuming the Lupin's marital problems were his fault.

"Yes – and – **No**, you didn't ask any of us ahead of time if we wanted to live again. But I can't help but feel that each of us has a role to play in this time, - I mean – think-on-it …why did Becca pick Remus and me – to ensure Harry's support - instead of say …Dumbledore or Mad-eye Moody? I've just got to believe - that the lord moves in mysterious ways.

"So - you've become a believer in destiny - all of a sudden"? Neville asked weakly.

Dora sat there silently thinking it over and then smiling wickedly, Tonks had a purely evil - pranking though - as she said; "Why not - if fate can breed a metamorphmagus and a werewolf into making a normal offspring - what other odd pairings can fate arrange. And while we're on the subject of odd pairings - why not tell me? As I have often wondered, what chat-up-line does a '_**simple gardener**_' use to convince a beautiful Veela to share his bed?"

"I honestly don't know what she sees in me", Neville replied in disarmed candor glancing down at the girl in his arms - thinking that Becca was **safely** asleep. "My usefulness to her is over, as her brother is now alive again".

"Then she's not your type? That's odd - Hermione says a white-blonde is your dream-girl," Tonks countered - winking at Becca.

"Are you daft, her hair color doesn't matter, being Veela doesn't matter? She had me …hook-line and sinker as my dream …when she was the cunning Rebecca – black hair and all. It's a shame that you didn't get the chance to get to know her manufactured glamour. Physical beauty was one thing, her come-hither attitude yet another plus. Both qualities I now realize bespoke the Veela in her - but in the end it was her indescribable courage that I fell in love with".

"Really – you don't say", Tonks said amused as Becca's eyes went wide in pleased surprise.

"I can't even imagine what kind of perseverance it must have taken to set-out on a three year journey to bring her half-brother back from the dead. Deceive the neo-DE, playing a double game with everyone …all out of family loyalty. I was sorted into Gryffindor - but when it comes to family – I'm like a Hufflepuff down to the core – for nothing is more important to me than family fidelity".

"So you're in love with Becca?"

"She can do way better than a glorified gardener – like me".

"Maybe she can, but that wasn't my question Neville Longbottom", Tonks said looking directly into Becca's wide open eyes – as she was lying extra-still; listening hard. – "Hermione says that the Veela sleeping in your arms arranged for the ministry to think you are married to Becca Bole. She must fancy you more than just a little to do that. Tell me honestly - what would you do to make your dream real? To have a Veela love you – bare you children – the whole _**grow old with me**_ bit?"

"There is nothing I wouldn't do, but let's get real here – for a second", Neville said holding-up both hands in surrender in the face of Tonks look of pure delight. "The marriage-bit was part of a clever preconceived ploy to excuse her living in my cottage while we cracked the Lazarus potion puzzle. Becca is wickedly-clever and I like that quality in a woman".

"You don't mind that she might be smarter than you",

"There is no might – she clearly is, but working with Ron I learned not to be put-off by someone smarter than me", Neville explained calmly. "Because as Ron said to me once - there always will be loads of people who will make almost any bloke – people like him and me - feel downright **stupid**. Lord knows - Hermione did it to Ron loads of times. The real-trick is not to fall a victim of envy and vanity. My Gran always said to know your limitations and try not to be jealous of people who can do things better than you ever could".

"And you think Ron accepts that he'll never be Hermione's intellectual equal"? Tonks asked.

"Oh yeah, years ago," Neville replied. "His problem is the same as mine, what could Ron realistically offer a girl like Hermione - when she regards him as little better than a dimwitted **butler** for Milady Prewett. I mean really-now just compare Ron's blue-collar job - to a rich and famous Quidditch player like Viktor was. Bloody-hell …that Bulgarian had a castle and a noble title for Heaven's sake".

"Becca - even in her glamour disguise of Rebecca had millionaires chasing her around the world – offering her lunch in Paris and dinner in Roma. All I can offer is a fry-up of nightly dinners and the occasional date-out at a local Pub for buggers and a dance. My hands are callus and will always smell of fertilizer. I couldn't even hold on-to the marital loyalty of a semi-alcoholic bar-maid".

"So you're not even going to try"?

"Of course I'm going to **try**, but sooner or later the novelty will wear off for her and - -"

"- - Neville - let me tell you about Veela's", Tonks interrupted rather sternly. "As long as you love her – Veela's stay loyal, they don't cheat on a spouse – ever. I realize that Hannah hurt you badly, but don't give up on all women because of the sins of one evil …unfaithful sow! I fought and died at the battle of Hogwarts – and our side didn't give-up …just because the odds are stacked heavily against us.

Okay-okay, point-taken - I did my bit at Hogwarts too remember - - but honestly Dora – put yourself in my shoes for just a second - - what do I say to my Veela, I'm utterly clueless about women and their feelings – Hannah proved that. I never expected Becca to go to the bother to hunt me down - after I wrote to her that she had gotten what she wanted – Viktor alive again and the experiment over".

"I had hoped that Granger might come after Ron – but even that wasn't a sure-thing. I just can't walk up to Becca and go down on one knee and ask; 'Hey beautiful - what would you say if I asked you to marry me'?"

A moment later Neville felt movement on his chest as Becca titled her head up to look Neville in the face with tears of joy dripping from her eyes said;

"Why I'd say - **yes** - to such a romantic proposal".

"Are you sure? – what can possibly I offer you…that-you can't get from a millionaire?

"Only one thing that I can think-of," Becca said with a panting lustful leer. "Longbottom children – loads and loads of copies; **of you**." A moment later their lips met and Tonks took that - as her point to leave. Getting up she quietly left the room entering the hall – just as a care worn Hermione stumbled down the hallway past her.

"Hermione you look like shite," Tonks said bluntly causing the bookworm to stop. "Is it wrong of me to assume that Ron is still 'lost' to us? Didn't the Magical Body Mass transfer have any positive effects?"

"Yes and No", Hermione replied half-heartedly sounding deeply depressed. "It was kind of Viktor and Remus to volunteer to take-on some of Ron's Giant-physique – with Neville taking the most of course - to compensate for the battle-damage that Mordred did to him".

"It must have worked, Neville just woke–up and - -"

"- - I have to speak to him right away about - -" Hermione began sounding excited as she headed for the bedroom that Tonks had just come from.

"- - Not right now," Tonks interrupted holding her back. "He and Becca have just come to a meeting of minds – romantically speaking - and at the moment he is negotiating the terms of his **next** life-long ...marital **indenture**".

"She got her man – good for her", Hermione said fighting back tears.

"Are you doing what Myrddin suggested?" Tonks asked.

"Yes, of course I am. Myrddin says he's in there and listening. I rarely leave his side, I read to him, "_**Hogwarts a History**_" every-day… just to irritate him enough to wake up and stop me. – I sleep next to him – talk about where we should spend our exile. Now that he is human sized again I give him sponge baths and try to get to know his House-elves - -"

"- - You're no trying to free them …are you?"

"No, not anymore, Hermione replied sounding slightly offended. "I'm now painfully aware of my mistake on that elfish social-cultural-issue. I realize that people feel that I'm inflexible in my thinking and the inaccurate view that once I make-up my mind – it cannot be changed.

"I don't mean to offend," Tonks replied, "but when I was alive the general perception of you in the **order of the phoenix** was - -"

"- - that I was an arrogant know-it-all who never-ever was wrong about anything."

"Well – yes – that's spot-on."

"When I was younger I had self-worth issues connected directly to my image of book-smart brilliance. It was very hard for me to admit mistakes for it reflected on my know-it-all reputation. The perception of being prefect - has come back to haunt me again and again. After my death in particular I realized that I had a chance to step down from my self-created pedestal as a perfect Goddess and become a more genuine human being. I want to be a better person, a warmer – more affectionate woman."

"And your feeling for Ron is the motivation for this change"? Tonks asked.

"Oh yes – unlike Viktor – Ron never worshiped me as a demi-god. To him I was mortal and fallible from day one. Part of my transformation into being more - 'earthly' - is in taking a second and much harder look at Ron's views on the house-elf issue. I have come to understand through chats with Neville of the reasons behind the _**resettlement act**_ as well as Ron's extra strong support of it. I have also spoken-at-length with Tweaky, the female chief house-elf of his household and have determined that freedom is the wrong solution. It is in their treatment by their owners that has to change. Regretfully not all of the pure-bloods treat their elves as respectfully as Neville and Ron do".

"So you've come to agree with Ron". Tonks said in a tone of genuine amazement.

"Ron has been right on a number of issues over the years," Hermione freely admitted. "But I was too defensive of my 'smarter than him' arrogance to acknowledge on any level that his way was the right way".

"But the translations"

"That has been the most recent example that my transformation into being a mere mortal - is still very-much a work in progress. Ron is a far better translator, and deep down I know that. However - knowing that Ron is better at something academically than I am – still rubs me the wrong way. If I still have trouble telling him my feelings about shagging his brains out - how do I learn to listen more and argue less".

"A relationship with any man is by definition a constant struggle", Tonks conceded with a resigned shrug of her shoulders. "Male pride is huge and their ego fragile. Remus as a former werewolf always felt the need to be the alpha male in our two-person pack, to dominate me. Now that the second blue-potion has removed his werewolf curse in the Lazarus process of curing his mortal imperfections – since returning to the land of the living Remus John Lupin no longer knows what to do with him-self… or me - as his mate".

"Oh MY God – I didn't realize until right now," Hermione said stopping short in gob-smacked surprise. "That Remus is no longer a werewolf. It must complicate everything".

"Tell me about it – for example; legally-speaking - marriage is said to be _**until death doth-us part**_, we've been dead and come back again – so as a **Barrister** why don't you tell me - are we still married?" Tonks asked rhetorically.

Hermione had no answer – she just stood there and stared at Tonks – utterly speechless.

**OoOoOoOo**

**End Trans – for now**

**AN/ **the word count is creeping up** – darn, shucks …bullocks. **

**Just a few more chapters to wrap this up**


	23. Chapter 23

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers Blondes**

**Chapter 23**; entitled: **Down by One**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**word count for this chapter: 3,053**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow **smut**.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Time-frame**: begins in the last chapter of HBP,- its midnight, around **mid-June, 1997** …some two days before Dumbledore's funeral.

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**Roll film**

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"Really Ronald, you have to snap out of this, all the pieces are on the chess board - the knights and pawns have gathered in one spot - - but they need a gifted chess master to manage the game of Kings". Myrddin said out-loud within minutes of Hermione leaving the room. "Remus, Neville, Victor and you - that is the magical four that the druid fates gathered to take over the protection of Arthur and Charlemagne from the two witch's covens".

"The so-called _**Divine Mandate of Heaven**_– the right the Avalon claimed to take control of my Lazarus potion has been withdrawn from them due to their utter failure to keep the secret from outsiders. Just today a magical newspaper in Aachen ran an editorial demanding that the German Ministry of Magic get from the Charlemagne coven their chain of office to produce the Lazarus resurrection potion in quintiles large enough for the benefit of the average citizen".

"The _**Daily Prophet**_ is still in denial of the existence of a real way of bring back the dead - but that will change with time". Merlin said addressing the room at large. "Clearly I need someone to manage the reforming Druid's and you must admit that you Ronald as Knight Errant is custom-made prefect for this role."

'_If that's all true, - if keeping the secret is so all important - why did you insist that Longbottom be allowed to live?_'- Stated the three unearthly harmonized feminine voices – that emanated from three small balls of light; which suddenly appeared floating some three feet above Ron's unmoving body – which was lying in the center of a plush kings sized bed in a deep coma.

"I shouldn't be the only one to know the secret," Myrddin said in reply – "And I have argued for centuries that if anything happened to me **and** the livery collars, the ability to resuscitate the Kings would be lost forever. The question has never been how many hold the secret - but the quality of character of those who keep it. Surely you're not suggesting that Neville will abuse the trust you three have put in his hands.

"_No, that decision was made many generations before the boy was born; we are however greatly concerned that mortal man now knows that the Arthurian legend has its bases in truth. The maker of all things does not want mortals to think that they can cheat death – even temporarily"._ The three non-corporeal voices said as one.

"That was Avalon's greatest failure – I agree". Myrddin said sternly. "They and the Charlemagne coven have mismanaged this entire affair, which is the primary reason the mandate has shifted back to we Druids".

"_Myrddin Emrys - your order is long gone – lost to history. The modern druids are frauds just playacting the old rituals. None of them are even magical?"_

"I was referring to the two couples reborn, the mortal Longbottom's and Krum - four men and three women".

"_And that is **seven** and not the magical **four** of the prophecies – besides - who will be the go-between your world and ours?_" The three non-corporeal voices asked as one. "_The Death Camber underneath the ministry was created in ancient times as a communicating point between the living and the dead. The deadly hallows resurrection stone served that same purpose, - -"_

"I managed to recover that; it's here in the cave," Myrddin interrupted boasting a-bit.

"_**WE**__ directed you to its location – don't ever forget that, - we also guided you to the two Kings and their knights"._

"They are **all** here –as you directed, they are down in the 'Burial Crip' underneath my feet. Although I need to brew loads more of the third (red) potion …as Arthur and Charlemagne has far more Knights in attendance than the two each - the legend describes. There is an entire **Legion** of warriors down there.

"_Four knights and two kings weren't enough to re-conquer all of Europe_. _The important thing is that the Avalon coven has no idea that Arthur is no longer under their protection. Yes Myrddin you have done well. _

"Thank-you", Myrddin said beaming at the praise.

"_The tiny and remote chapel where they hid Pendragon had an all-consuming fire within days of the Avalon livery collar's thief by the neo-Death Eaters. – Exactly as planned. Charlemagne came to the cave within minutes as their livery chain of office was stolen by Miss Bole."_ The three non-corporeal voices declared firmly as one.

"_But you have side-stepped our question – who will stay here in the cave under the forest of Pierpont in Brittany and act as the go-between for the living and the dead"_.

"If required …I will continue in that role - -" Myrddin said with great reluctance.

"_No – your tour of duty ended with the Avalon mandate_", the three non-corporeal voices insisted sternly - speaking as one.

"Then who will replace me?"

"_Fate has chosen – Viktor Hugo Krum to speak for mortal man. You will instruct him in this task before you and Vivienne go off on your long overdue retirement holiday"_.

"Why Krum?"

"_Destiny has plans for all the others_". The three non-corporeal voices declared as one.

"_For example - - behind the chateau near the entrance stone for this very cave, is a large estate that has long been abandoned – within three hundred yards of the back of that empty vine-covered Chateau there is a bankrupted commercial greenhouse"._

"The Longbottom's," Myrddin said in an astonished near whisper.

"_There is more gold stocked away in the treasure rooms of Merlin's cave – right beneath your feet - than required to cover the cost of one hundred thousand Chateau's like the one above this cave. That gold collected over the centuries will be managed wisely and legally by the former Weasley and Granger – it will be their tasks during their second life to fund and organize the rebirth of the neo-Druid society. Destiny as you know __full well__ - has a preference for very long-long term plans"_.

"So my part in all this is over - - what if I refuse to be retired?"

"_You retain the mortal right to choose your own fate – but if you defy destiny then there is no reason to bring back Ronald to take over the title of __the__ "MERLIN." - We cannot permit a wizard who retains all the magical power of Mordred to wander about free_. _He is currently only lacking your knowledge of how to control such enormous magical supremacy. Without a controlling influence he could easily __**turn evil**__"_. The three non-corporeal voices pointed-out stoically speaking as one.

"That's blackmail

"_No - - it is a free-will choice. If you retire a __**new magus supreme**__ takes over your title and __some __of your responsibilities",_

"Ronald the knight errant," Myrddin said to himself thinking it over carefully.

"_Can you honestly think of a better – more honorable warrior to guard the resting place of the two kings? We have determined that putting __all__ the responsibilities of __the__ MERLIN in one person was a mistake. This time we will divide your duties among several Wizarding mortals. _

"You're saying I failed as the MERLIN", Myrddin said sounding deeply offended.

_No …not necessarily – You are just one of many have granted the title of the Merlin – some have just been more successful than others. We have come to understand in the last few centuries - that it is difficult any one person to walk away for ultimate power, the sins of'pride and vanity' makes it so easy to corrupt a single mortal soul. Flattery has brought down more great wizards than swords. So this time we intend to turn over your burden to a __**privy council**__ of magical mortals_".

"If I no longer hold your full confidence – then of course I'll resign", Myrddin declared sounding hurt.

"_Here again – you prove our point. Your vanity and overinflated ego has put you in a defensive posture. An angry wizard makes mistakes Myrddin_," the three said as one.

"Yes – you are right of course, I have made mistakes –allowing Arthur to get involved with the unfaithful Guinevere …the lover of both Lancelot and Mordred – was one of my biggest. Perhaps you're right – maybe a privy council is better than one man's misjudgments".

_The age of absolute monarchs is over – for humankind_.

"Alright – I'll resign – when can I get Ronald back to train him?"

"_Soon – but you don't get to train Sir Ronald - for his power surpasses yours, as a pebble is outshined by a mountain. We will train him, while he floats in limbo. Your task is Krum, correct magically his language disability, for his English is horrible, his knowledge of French, Celtic and Latin all but non-existent. _

_Use one of the former Lupin's as an alternate - __**if you must**__ – otherwise leave them free to fulfill their own individual destinies. We have a plan for one at the other end of the world while the other has a more localized fate. _

"What destiny is that?" Myrddin asked only to be ignored.

_We will speak again when the new __**Magus Merlin**__ returns to the living. _ And with that said - the tree balls of floating light abruptly popped-out. Myrddin continued to stare at the spot deep in thought for a moment or two in deep contemplation - before saying over his shoulder;

"Eavesdropping on other peoples conversations - is not good manners Professor."

"You knew I was here?"

"You walked in as Hermione walked out," Myrddin said drolly.

"Who or what was those three balls of light?"

"Well that depends on your spiritual beliefs". Myrddin replied with a smile. "To the Judo-Christian and Islamic faiths - those three would be called Archangels – specifically: Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. To a classical Roman pagan like my-self - they represent the three sisters the Greeks called the fates; Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos

"And to an Agnostic such as I"? -Remus asked.

"Then you most likely - wouldn't have acknowledged to have seen or heard them …at all - as your-lot can't make-up your-minds - **whether or not**- an afterlife actually exists."

"I returned from the dead - - but - I don't remember anything"

"That just means that the other side of the veil is very good at keeping their secrets."

"Like the archway to the other-side …found in the - _**Death Chamber **_- under the ministry?" Remus snorted – "whispered voices from beyond the veil – surely you of all people know - that's all just rubbish".

"And then so were the prophecies that controlled Harry Potter's destiny – or the very existence of magic itself. Can you be so cynical now – after experiencing first-hand …the miracle of returning from the dead - that you deny the possibility of unknown wonders yet to be discovered – or - call all Seers and soothsayers frauds and charlatans"?

"Let's agree to disagree on that point – shall we", Remus snorted.

"As you wish,"Myrddin said with a sad knowing smile. "But just for the sake of argument let's consider that you - as our resident "**doubting Thomas**" did hear the 'Fates' speak just now. What have you learned from eavesdropping that might be of import to you personally.

"Nothing really"

"Oh I most definitely disagree; Professor". Myrddin said. "Right from the off; you learned that even the Great Merlin answers to a higher authority – which should also tell-you that even I cannot act with total impunity. Starting with that tid-bit; what does that information reveal to a former werewolf – unsure as to what the future holds for him".

"For one thing – it confirms the notion of 'free-will' as being nonsense. I don't care at all for the thought that any so-called higher power - the fates – if you want to call them that - controls you so **totally** – that your choice on retirement has been taken away from you. I too had a job I loved and was forced out by circumstances beyond my control".

"Nor, am I at all happy to hear - that these higher authorities already have plans for me?" Remus said in a deeply irritated tone. "I've had quite enough of others treating me like a puppet and pulling my strings this way and that. I've been held-back all my life due to Lycanthropy. I was trapped every month in the _**Screaking Shack**_ at Hogwarts during the full-moon – kept on a short leash by Dumbledore - - restricted in employment because I was a Lycan– trapped again into marriage because of a unexpected pregnancy.

"Trapped into marriage – eh? Well then you'll be happy to learn that you are no longer restrained by the bonds of holy Matrimony Remus Lupin. Your honorable marriage for the sake of your** unwanted child - - **ended - - at the same exact moment your former life did. The burden of raiser your child ended nine years ago – your mother-in-law has done **your duty** in bringing up your son – in two years time - - Teddy is off to Hogwarts - - so you are not as trapped as you say you are", Myrddin said sounding very disappointed in the youth standing before him.

"The other point you should have picked up from my conversation with **the fates** is that your free-will choice to defy any destiny they plan for you – is still very much in place. There are consequences for every choice you make – for example – If I stay as the Merlin – Ronald stays dead. Although I should also point out that what you might believe to be an act of defiance against your destiny - is in fact more often than not - exactly how the fates expect you to decide. Destiny is harder to walk away from than you might think".

"I don't believe in fate, I say a man makes his own luck. Cut the strings Merlin – set this puppet free," Remus shouted in a semi-hysterical tone.

"I will not **force** anyone to be a-part of the two sleeping-kings new-guardians. If it is your genuine desire to set your own course – free of the manipulations of anyone – including your former wife.

"Yes-yes"

"Then it is in my power to Obliviate your memory of coming back from the dead – wipe clean your memory of your previous life – your wife Dora and your son Teddy. I can transport you and all your belongings this very instance - to anywhere you direct - - give you a new name plenty of gold – enough for a fresh start, anyway."

"Yes – that's what I want, I want to be my own man - -"

"Very well, just be aware that there is no going back – no second chance with Dora. - - "

"- - Yes-yes, set me free,"

"So be it, - Good journey to you - Remus John Lupin," Myrddin said as he raised his wand his entire body glowing bright with powerful magic and then he shouted;

**Obliviate**

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**End Trans** – for now


	24. Chapter 24

Story title: **the Gentleman Prefers Blondes**

**Chapter 24**; entitled: **the new Guards stand their Post's**

Author: billybobcsgun36 - - id# 641050

Category: **AU - Alternate Universe; **

**Wherein Hp characters don't follow cannon in their behavior.**

**word count this chapter: 4,434**

**Rating: M** - just to be safeguarded from the prudish criticism of the overly sensitive. The rating is what it is for adult language and banter, some UK profanity / slang and heavily **implied** sexual innuendo. I do not write blow-by-blow **smut**.

**Warning # 1**; I will **pick and chose** items from JKR last two books as it suits my fancy, and disregard other bits of cannon just as easily.

**Standardized disclaimer**: is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know who has all legal copy rights to Harry Potter, with us in fan fiction just burrowing it for our own amusement and that of our readers.

**Time-frame**: begins in the last chapter ofHBP,its midnight, around **mid-June, 1997** …some two days before Dumbledore's funeral.

OoOoOoOo

**Roll film**

OoOoOoOo

"Don't whine at me Neville Francis, you are going back to bed," Becca said helping her still weak semi-official husband back to their bed deep in the cave under the forest of Pierpont near the French city of Rerunes.

"It's been ten days why am I the only one that's still a near total invalid," Neville complained. "Ron goes-about looking like a ruddy Hercules".

"Ron isn't in any better shape than you are; you two are just polar opposites in after-effects of the tent battle. Your weakness is purely physical in nature – because Mordred did a number on your body during that mêlée. You were closer to death than I think you realize my-luv …and now each and every day you are getting stronger. Whereas Ron is struggling with far different internal changes – after all the body mass that Myrddin transferred out of him and into all the others – well mostly you my-pet," Becca said as she gently settled Neville into bed.

"Ron is still six foot six inches tall, and built like a body-building ...medieval knight with muscles galore – you should see him swing-about that magically-singing broad-sword and flaming war-axe that we found in the Merlin's cave armory.

I've actually seen Hermione swoon and make girlish sounds as he goes through the knight training that Myrddin insists he go through to reconnect his hand-eye coordination. The really odd thing in my opinion is the fact that Myrddin who is now the former - the 'Merlin' - refusal to help his replacement with his magic. I spoke with Hermione and Dora the other day while you were sleeping and the general consensus is that Ron's magical powers are beyond anything ever encountered before – even by Myrddin himself".

"Well that's understandable - my darling", Neville said weakly from his pillow. "From what you've told me - Mordred unlike Voldemort apparently didn't fancy having followers underfoot - he wanted the power required to conquer the world single handed. When he finally awoke in Ron's magically altered body - which Mordred had taken-over from beyond the veil - - that evil wizard had already packed Ron's empty shell with magic on a scale that would have old-Grindelwald drooling with envy."

"Grindelwald, Voldemort and now Mordred; – how come our generation has all the bad-guys?" Becca asked rhetorically

"Just lucky I guess", Neville replied with no small amount of cheek. "When Dora babysat me the other day while you when shopping – she said - -"

"- -I needed clothes, shoes and lace lingerie and if you're a good-boy …I'll let you unwrap some of what I bought – while I'm wearing them", Becca interrupted in her most seductive tone as a tease.

"You like driving me crazy – don't you?"

"Yes I do – and you love it"

"True- I truly do, I won't deny it. You've taught me what love means. After Hannah I started to doubt I'd ever find it again. You mean the - -" Neville began before deep emotions nearly overwhelmed him. He paused for a moment or two tearing-up just to regain self-control before wiping away his tears he began speaking again.

"- - Anyroad Dora told me that Ron has - even with Hermione and Myrddin 24-7 help has been having huge control issues. Even the simplest spells are like killing an ant with a wrecking ball.

"Don't I know it, Becca added with a chuckle. "Did you hear the explosion the other day? One **small** spell – done without a wand – accidentally – created an eighty-five foot tunnel ten feet tall and eight feet wide.

"And Ron did that – accidentally?" Neville said sounding surprised.

"Yup, Myrddin wanted to fill-in the hole; but Hermione said **no**, she wants it as a reminder for Ron – so that he'll never forget the powers he is playing with. Now he walks about treating everything he touches as if he's a bull in a china-shop – even sturdy oaken tables he touches as if they are made of the thinnest of porcelain. It's actually funny to watch".

"Doesn't that kind of magical power in one person worry anyone?" Neville asked as Becca lovingly climbed onto the big bed – and cuddled-up against him – gently resting her head on his chest. Neville automatically wrapped a tender arm around this beautiful Veela wondering again at his good fortune.

"Sure it does, that's why we're all lucky to have Hermione around – she is a clever one, she has researched magical control in every book she could find. And what she has found out has helped loads" Becca said sounding genuinely impressed.

"She went to magical London?"

"Of course, I thought she'd use the Pauline Fossil alias again – but with Dora's help - she established a new identity for her-self and Ron with the French Ministry. No one recognized her steam-punk persona in the Paris Ministry or in the French version of Diagon Alley. Magical London was no different. She bought clothing in Paris along with lingerie and she went book shopping in London. What she brought back from both places is the important thing. Besides – she has 'discovered' the calming effect of lingerie on Ron, a little lace peeking out from the top of a modestly undone blouse – the tiny scent of perfume and our Giant of a Knight is putty in Hermione's hands. That girl may-well be as extra-thin as a runway model but it is remarkable to watch, how she can with soft words control Ron. She even confessed to me that 'this' method of getting her message across works loads better than harsh words at argument volume".

"Calming effect - on Ron? When they were both alive all I remember them doing was arguing and yelling at the top of their lungs and I mean all-the-time". Neville said as he reluctantly settled in.

"She's trying a different approach with him, less yelling and more discussing. And he's listening – really listening. You proved right of course. He doesn't care **at-all** for her super-short hair cut – or her Goth style 'alias' persona. Luckily - for all concerned; Dora convinced our resident barrister to make all of her piercing and tattoos magical and therefore none-of-them permanently scar her skin. I'm guessing that when it comes to 'body-art' it is a love-it or hate-it kind of 'thing' and for some people like Ron he falls under the hate-it category. Personally i have three 'tiny' ones - in hard to see places but even they are all magical".

"Piercings and tattoos – sweet baby Maeve – who would have thought." Neville said semi-gob smacked,

"The dead Hermione would never have done it – you know that. The Granger persona didn't believe in make-up or fashion – because neither helped her be taken seriously by her male peers. The radical change in her appearance after her death has also affected her way of thinking - Hermione is far less stuck-up prude as a **punker** than she ever was as a straight laced barrister.

The punker shock to her mindset has made Hermione a different woman 'visually' and Ron is reacting to her as such. Just yesterday as he was getting up to get a cuppa - I saw him lean-over and kiss her the top of her head. It was a tiny gesture of affection for the new 'Mione' that left her stunned gob-smacked".

"Mione – who is that"?

"Part of her new name"

"Then they have patched things-up between them?"

"Not totally," Becca replied pausing as she thought it over carefully. "I'd guess it's a work in progress really - as all good relationship are. Ron's very flexible in his thinking and smart enough to know he needs to compromise with her often stubborn inflexibly. Whereas Mione is now smart enough - thanks to years of lonely existence - to know that her 'my-way-or-the-highway' war on being feminine and yelling at him is counterproductive – both control wise and relationship wise".

"It's a weird way to conduct a romance, - I just saying," Neville said holding up his hands in surrender as Becca frowned at him, - "Although come to think on it – after the mess I made with both Luna and Hannah – "who am I to judge what works romantically"?

"Third time out of the gate is the charm, my-luv …face-it, you are meant to be mine", she said with a smugness of a woman extremely happy with the way things had worked out. "Besides I've had my experience with 'so-call' relationship experts and these millionaire 'Casanova's' are all-about the chase - - putting another conquest notch on their bedpost before moving on to the next supermodel chase".

"It was fun for a while – I admit that - playing the idle-rich lifestyle alongside my brother Viktor. After all – when I wanted 'no strings' to hold me down to earth - I flew with the eagles like the best of them. But all such things come to an end, my love - especially when my Viktor died. The idle-rick flees from personal grief and treats those that suffer from it - like a fatal disease to be avoided at all costs. That was my personal 'shock-to-the-system' and it was as abrupt and eye opening as Hermione's existence without Ron".

"Not one of my millionaires eagles I ever mildly-fancied were nesting birds. When the urge to reproduce hits a Veela – if she is wise – she seeks-out a foundation stone - - a sturdy rock as the cornerstone of her generational family structure. I will be luckier than my little sisters – for I had dreams of the 'seed maker' for our family tree. Speaking of that – my darling - how many years ago did you first start dreaming of me".

"Most of my life – it seems". Neville declared before turning thoughtful. "You know it's still not too late?"

"What do you mean"?

"You are beyond beautiful and more than mentally 'sharp enough' to appeal to the **new** Merlin's preference for brilliant women".

"Are you dumping me - after all I've gone through to hunt you down? I most likely know more about your family history than you do," Becca said knowing that her husband was having yet another 'temporary' bout of self-doubt.

"I'm sure you do my sweet", Neville said apologetically. "I just don't want you feeling regret some twenty years down the lane".

"Ask me again in twenty years," Becca said with an amused chuckle "Maybe by then - I'll want to dump you".

"Perhaps you will", Neville said chuckling softly – and happy semi admitting defeat on the argument. For reasons he'd never fully understand - this Venus made flesh – wanted him. And that thought made him feel all snug and warm inside – he was in love with a woman who loved him back and that thought terrified him. He'd always have doubts – as any sane man would as the consort of a woman as beautiful as Becca was. He would live in fear of losing her to someone better – Just like Ron – But Ron phobia wasn't based on - - anything – not really. Mione was smart and sassy – she had a pretty face – all that was undeniable – but in figure, face, attitude and persona there was no comparison in who was the more fantastical. Well – in Neville's **option** anyway.

"Anyway" Neville said aloud – having emerged for his musings – "I think moving the - _**L&W Greenery Company**_ - to France is clearly do-able. Using me as a commercial gardener and the place I live-in as a cover for the Merlin cave entrance and all that it hides – also makes perfect sense to me. But you settling on **me** - is what I find hard to wrap my head around - when you could have had – so easily - with your come-hither looks …and feminine-wiles… been the consort of some multi-billionaire.

"I think you're blindly-bias when it comes to me – in my ability as a seductress."

"Let's agree to disagree on that point", Neville retorted softly.

Becca paused mid-thought trying to think of a proper response. Most people don't realize what Becca knew instinctively - the great dark secrete about men - that regular blokes are often very intimidated by another bloke with more gold than sense – or - a Herculean like body-builder physique – like Ron now boasted.

Becca knew from conversations with her half-brother – that Viktor the once 'steroids created' Quidditch Player. A bloke who now resembled a seven and a-half stone weakling felt very inferior when standing next to the Red-haired, Dane-Viking like …superman… Knight-errant ...a condition which now personified the resurrected Ron. (**AN/** 7.5 stone equals 90lbs.)

All the Men in the cave were envious of Ron's looks; woman had a tendency to swoon, Becca even caught Vivienne once or twice checking out - Ron's arse and pectorals and she was as loyal to Myrddin as the day was long. Becca found the whole situation about Ron amusing - as she her-self had no interest in him at all.

Neville repaired body was no weakling himself – you can't toss-about forty-kilo bags of mulch and fertilizer and not get a few muscles – the body-mass transfer had just put 'icing on the cake'. Suddenly sitting-up and looking-over her botanist extra carefully - she could see he was watching her with loving eyes – and that very look of love and devotion gave Becca - her answer.

"You still believe that in the end the girl gets to choose – right?"

"Yes – of course!"

"Can you also accept that the concept of a '**type'** applies equally to women as it does to blokes"?

"Well yeah".

"Then the fact - that I don't fancy our resident superman wizard – that my preference is for more of a common man – like Clark Kent" – that such a man can be my 'rightful' life choice? Becca said smiling seductively

"Who is Clark Kent?"

"You are …silly", she chuckled tenderly, "I 'chose' you as my Veela life-mate, and you are going to have to accept that fact and adapt your thinking accordingly – okay?

"Are you sure?"

"Yup – it's my choice as a woman – so that decides the matter – okay".

"Yes my love,"

"Good – moving on to more practical matters. The Manor house we went through today isn't as large as my mother's - but fifteen bedrooms …ten baths is-still barely respectable - -" she began.

"- - I didn't notice," Neville replied.

"Of course not – you're a boy', Becca replied with a snort. – "I fully expected you to only had eyes for the greenhouses, was the damage there bad"?

"No – not really, but the repairs on just one of the four greenhouses will take almost every knut we have', Neville explained. "Money will be tight for a bit, you don't mind …do you?"

"For better or worse, my luv …and richer-or-poorer", Becca said happily thinking of her five hundred thousand galleon 'untouched' dowry - now sitting safely in a Goblin bank in the magical-district of Paris. Not-to-mention the huge-hoard of Druid gold buried in Merlin's cave.

"We'll manage somehow I'm sure. Leave money matters to me …my darling, you agreed to that arrangement – remember? " Becca replied rather smugly. "But first we need you strong enough to make 'those repairs' you can do your-self. And all I ask from you – once you are fit enough - is to make absolutely sure that the first **seed** you **plant** at our new home will be **in me**".

"Can't wait for me to breed you - eh?" Neville said with a delighted chuckle and twinkles spinning in his eyes.

"Straining at the bit, my dear lord husband", Becca said in husky voice. "Your temporary weakness has put us way behind in - -".

"- - How's Tonks taking Remus Leaving"? Neville interrupted trying to get away of any thoughts of children while he began thinking-hard about the only mother living in the cave.

"It's an odd thing", Becca replied sounding genuinely puzzled. "I think she was resigned to what happened, more than half-expecting it …I imagine. Did you know that they were having marital problems"?

"No I didn't, did you ask Hermione or Ron about that"?

"I asked Hermione – and she said the two of them separated briefly during the war". Becca explained. "Life with a werewolf must have been very difficult – a successful marriage between different species are said to be nearly impossible. I think that Dora knew that".

"So what happens to Dora now?"

"What happens to my brother Viktor who doesn't dare play Quidditch again – or - Hermione and Ron whose old professions and families are forever out of their reach? Being reborn from the dead - makes for a very complicated second life".

"I've given this whole adventure - what Ron calls; 'a good long think' – and I've come to believe that you and I are the lucky ones. We never took the resurrection potion; we will have relatively normal lives".

"yes – I can agree with that", Neville replied

"In my view - part of our job as the store-front for the Merlin cave is to be the foundation stone for the others. We must make the chateau a home – a family center for all the others- -"

"- - A sanctuary – yes I was thinking the same thing", Neville interjected softly. I was going to talk with you about that. I was thinking of making the "Re-born's" along with Myrddin and Vivienne Emrys – full partners in our magically enchanted commercial Greenhouses. As legally registered shareholders in the Paris Ministry - we can slip to them some of the druid gold as legitimate income – and then - -"

"- - Neville darling that's bloody-brilliant!" Becca interrupted as she jumped on top of Neville to hug tightly and kiss passionately her much beloved spouse.

"Then you like the idea"? Neville semi-squeaked as Becca slipped an eager hand inside his pajama bottoms. A few strokes and much to her great delight …her physically recovering spouse 'rose' to the occasion.

"Becca - darling – I thought we were going to wait until - -"

"No-waiting ...no trying on lace lingerie", she hotly panted in a deep husky voice - as she all but ripped open Neville's Pajama top – VEELA MAKE BABY **NOW**!

And as the under-strengthen botanist was "mounted" by his sex starved – aggressively eager wife – Neville experienced a moment of profound **Deja-vu**. For the sight of this now shamelessly naked white-blonde Veela riding his baby-maker …was not a new one for him. Although this was the first time he'd seen Becca without clothing – in the flesh - - the sight was also an oddly familiar one.

For as she bounced up and down on him – her bare bosom swayed – and as Neville took a two handed hold of Becca's hips to steady her thrusts – he notice on the underside of her bouncing right breast the unmistakable tattoo of a tiny - barely noticeable 'dark-mark' – the badge of a neo-Death Eater.

That is when it hit him – his dreams of sixth and seventh year had come true. They hadn't been dreams at all – they had been visions of his future life with this platinum-blonde always randy Veela. This white haired death-eater so eager for his baby - was everything fate had promised him. And that thought of a dream made flesh was all a physically weak Neville needed in motivation to bring his 'bride' to a delicious 'completion'.

For all of a suddenly Becca arched back and screamed Neville's name - before abruptly collapsing down in a sweat covered heap on top of his chest – in a state of satisfied bliss. As he lay beneath her exhausted form he ever so gently began rubbing Becca bare back affectionately. – In a state of near bliss him-self …one thought reverberated in Neville's mind:

"Where could a naked-bloke like me – deep in this ruddy cave – get a scoop of 'ice cream' for his lady"?

And then an inspiring idea came to him and Neville called out - - "**Renee**"

OoOoOo

**Finis**

OoOoOo

**Epilog – to tidy-up a few lose ends.**

1)- - As Neville consummated his wedding – just down the hall the former 'Hermione Jean' was engaging in the same kind of activity with '**her'** Ronald Bilius - the new magus-Merlin. The sometimes still 'know-it-all' would spent the rest of her **second life** proving that Ron was her number one priority (right after their 'numerous offspring's' – naturally)

2) - - On the one year anniversary of the Greenhouse Battle on the Prewett estate, **Rupert Ronald Grint **and** Emma Hermione Watson** – by then heavy with child - were married in a small private ceremony in the beautiful gazebo behind the M&L château. Neville and Becca took advantage of the opportunity to re-new the 'vows' they hadn't actually taken before.

3) - - Remus John Lupin disappeared into North America and was never heard of again.

4) - - Nymphadora (Dora) Tonks took-on the Muggle name '**Natlia Tena'** and returned to England where she quickly re-introduced herself into the magical steam-punk / Gothic sub-culture of Greater London. While coming-up to speed on the latest musical trends - she encountered another Metamorphmagus – aged twenty – a young adult wizard and part-time Herbologist, who shared Natlia's fancy for the 'off-the-wall'… lifestyle of steam/Goth.

She returned to Merlin's cave twenty-four months after departing – deliciously happy, with a wedding band on her finger a devoted spouse and new employee of the M&L greenery company. Natlia was also wearing 'maternity based' steam-punk-outfits …for at the time of her return - she was very deeply engaged in the pudding club.

5) - - Myrddin and Vivienne Emrys went on a yearlong second honeymoon holiday – around the world – to celebrate Myrddin's 'retirement' - but they too returned to the M&L chateau to live after their trip was over. During many centuries of non-marital bliss - they conceived no children.

6) - - for the perpetually thin Viktor, who took the name **Stanislav Ianevski **to match the eastern European ascent he never really lost. Without the Quidditch player chick-magnet persona of his previous life - he had no luck chatting-up the ladies. As time went on – and still very single - Stan became obsessed with **Caving**; also called **potholing** in the UK and Ireland - or – more properly known in the USA as the hobby of cave exploration.

While engaged in this much beloved pastime and climbing through the hundreds of kilometers of passageways, waterfalls, rivers, streams and underground lakes that made up the interior of Merlin's cave. The re-born Viktor while paddling in an inflatable rubber-boat …across a particularly large body of water in a Giant dome shaped Cavern… deep-deep under the earth.

Suddenly right in front of him Stan beheld a very feminine arm shoot-out from under the water - holding in her hand a sword. Slowly like 'Aphrodite emerging from the waves' - a semi-nude black-hair beauty – with the cold water making the nightdress she wore all but transparent - stood before him as if standing on solid earth instead of the water where she actually was. She gazed ever so seductively at Stan who sat in his ridiculously tiny-boat and said in a husky whisper - in perfectly-flawless Bulgarian;

"I've been waiting for you!"

(But that story is for another time)

OoOoOo

**Transmission ends **

**Billybob's ending note**. I hoped you like my little tale. I ended it with a cliffy - as a kind-of baton for some other writer to pick up. a Viktor/OC ship. Good journey to all of you through-out life – for we only have one life to live.


End file.
